SMALL TOWN MURDER
By
Dianne Harman
(A Midwest Cozy Mystery - Book 7)
Copyright © 2019 Dianne Harman
www.dianneharman.com
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Paperback ISBN: 9781795824477
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my family, my friends, and my readers. Thank you for your ongoing support and taking the time to critique, read, and review my books.
To the people who work so hard to get my words in print, thank you.
And to Tom, for your everlasting encouragement and support, thank you.
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Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
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
EPILOGUE
RECIPES
ABOUT DIANNE
COMING SOON!
PROLOGUE
Jay Talbot looked at herself in the large full-length dressing room mirror and smiled. It wasn’t entirely for the benefit of the makeup artist and hairstylist – she was trying to pump herself up for the performance she had to give.
“Thank you so much,” she said to the hairstylist, careful not to mess up her dark bouncy waves as she gave her a hug, then gave the same treatment to the makeup artist. “Just one final coffee, and I’ll be all set!”
“Make sure to reapply the lipstick, then,” the makeup artist said, and placed a tube by the mirror. “Here it is.”
Jay smiled. “I will. Thank you, ladies.” She ushered them out of the dressing room, and walked down the backstage corridor toward the kitchen.
A young woman was there, dressed in black clothes like backstage helpers often wear, hanging around in front of the toaster. She practically jumped out of her skin when she saw Jay walk in. “Oh, my goodness!” she blurted out. “I knew you were speaking here today but…” She laughed, then her eyes welled up with overwhelmed tears. “I’m sorry… Gosh, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect… You’re like… my hero.”
Jay still couldn’t get used to moments like this. It wasn’t so long ago that she was just another one of the soccer moms, taking her seven-year-old daughter Lila and five-year-old son Thomas to all their sports practices. But in secret, every morning, before anyone in the household woke up, she was writing a thousand words or more of her memoir on her computer. She’d set her laptop up on the kitchen table, and by the time her coffee was done and the sun had risen, she was a little closer to her dream of becoming a writer.
Her rise as a bestselling author had been nothing short of meteoric. She’d self-published, because no publisher would take on her book without some kind of ‘audience,’ and her Facebook profile had a measly (by publishing standards) 143 friends. “Do you use Instagram?” they’d asked her, and she’d just laughed. She’d never used it, much less knew what it was.
But a friend of a friend – a literary agent, no less – read her book, loved it, and asked if she could represent her. Before long, the book was doing the rounds with the publishers. A bidding war ensued, and Jay got a surprisingly large check along with her first batch of printed books. She remembered that day vividly in her mind. Kneeling in front of the box in her hallway, she sniffed the wonderful ‘new book’ smell, which took on a whole new dimension when it was your new book.
She thought that was as good as it would ever get. But then… Oprah called. Well, not Oprah personally, but a representative of her show. Jay could have sworn it was a prank. But it wasn’t. And before she really knew what was happening, Jay had been whisked away from Kansas to California. She sat opposite Oprah at a small table in her Montecito, California garden, to film Super Soul Sunday and answer all kinds of questions about her amazing journey.
Jay still wasn’t quite sure she believed it. Why were people so interested in her? She wasn’t laying down any ground-breaking theories, or showing people how to predict the winning lottery numbers or move the world with the power of their mind.
All she did was share her own experiences and vulnerabilities. Her own mom had gotten sick and died, and about the same time she discovered that during her entire marriage her husband had been cheating on her. She was devastated by both the loss of her mother and the realization that her husband was unfaithful.
If she hadn’t written the book, she would have probably gone crazy. But in spite of it all, people seemed to relate – perhaps to her vulnerability, perhaps to her sense of humor.
And the backstage girl in front of her was no different.
Jay smiled, trying not to feel like an impostor. “Thank you,” she said. (She and her therapist had worked on the idea of accepting compliments, rather than shoving them back in a shame-filled babbling mess.) “You’re very kind to say so.”
She flicked the switch on the instant coffee device and wondered what she could say that would be inspirational to the young woman. She wasn’t feeling very inspirational. She’d had to leave her children with her soon-to-be-ex-husband Reiss, and she always felt horrible when that happened. She was constantly on edge, worrying about them, and wondering if her worries were as irrational as everyone else said they were.
“I saw you on Oprah,” the young woman said. “That interview Changed. My. Life. And I’m not exaggerating.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Jay said. She wasn’t sure if she meant it or not. She was more bewildered than anything else. Lots of people had said the same thing to her. They liked to tell her how much she’d transformed their whole outlook on life. But really, how? It was a mystery to her. Sometimes an exhilarating one, but more often, a deeply uncomfortable one.
“I’m really glad to hear that.” She wished she could find something more insightful to say, but thankfully the young backstage girl gushed on so much she didn’t have to.
“I was going through a really difficult time…” the young woman began.
Jay chatted with her for a few minutes, trying to be kind and supportive. Then she took her coffee and returned to her dressing room. As she always did, she had to say her affirmations before she went on stage. Otherwise she’d be a quivering, cowering mess who wouldn’t be able to ever step out into the spotlight!
“I talk with ease and confidence,” she said, smiling as she watched herself in the mirror. “I bring light to the stage and make people feel great.” She had her affirmations memorized by now, and no longer needed her little slip of paper to help her remember her words.
But she never got to say the last words of her affirmation routine.
That’s because someone stepped out of the closet behind her and violently grabbed her freshly curled hair, pulled her head back exposing her neck, and plunged
a hypodermic needle into her jugular vein. The attacker pressed the plunger down, and poison squirted into Jay’s system. Through the mirror, and in total shock, she stared at her attacker. Within seconds, the world fuzzed over, and she collapsed onto the dressing room floor.
She was dead.
CHAPTER 1
Kat sat at the kitchen table of Lennon Forbes’ house in Lincoln, Kansas, cradling a cup of tea in her hands. It was truly a quintessential ‘American Dream Home,’ with a white picket fence out in front, an exceptionally well-maintained front yard with sculpted bushes, and a huge white sweeping wraparound veranda. Lennon’s big eight-passenger Chevy Traverse sat in the driveway. It was blue, of course, as was nearly everything in Lennon’s world – it was her absolute favorite color.
Kat smiled as Lennon dashed around the blue and beige kitchen. One moment she was loading the dishwasher, next she was organizing a homeschool worksheet for one of her kids, next she was writing something on the notice board, and after that she was getting ready to bake some cookies. The woman simply didn’t stop. She was like a perpetual motion machine. It was amazing!
“You’re certainly a busy lady,” Kat said. “I felt busy when Lacie was little, and I just had one child. I don’t know how you do it with six! You write a self-development blog, homeschool your four eldest, look after two toddlers and two golden retrievers, volunteer at church, keep your home looking like a showroom, and always look very stylish and put together. And now you’re organizing a writer’s conference singlehandedly? Lennon, what’s your secret? Do you add a sneaky four hours into your day somehow?”
Lennon laughed as she patted her oatmeal and chocolate chip mixture into cookie shapes and placed them on a baking sheet. Her blonde hair fell softly about her shoulders. “You’re so generous with your compliments, Kat. Thank you,” she said with a grin. “I don’t know. I guess I enjoy all of it. I want to do it. And with God’s strength, I know I can do it. I’m blessed that my husband Rhett works so hard, too. It allows me to stay home and homeschool the kids just the way I want to.”
Lennon and Rhett’s six children were headed up by sixteen-year-old twins, a boy and a girl named Jethro and Candace. Next came fourteen-year-old Susannah, followed by nine-year-old Gideon. There was a large age gap, and finally came her two little babies, two-and-a-half-year-old Esther, and eighteen-month-old Abigail. She’d told Kat she may have just one more, if she could manage it. Her doctor thought she could, but advised her that she shouldn’t wait around for too much longer – she was turning forty-three next year. “But first,” she’d said, “I want to reach out to some writers.”
So she’d put together an idea for a conference, arranged a venue in Green Rock, a small nearby city, and called Kat. They’d never met, but Lennon treated her like they’d known each other for years. “I saw where you’re doing very well these days,” she’d said on the phone. “Great to hear us Kansas girls are making the state proud.”
She knew about Kat’s success as an author of mystery books using her name, Kat Denham, but she knew nothing about Kat’s Sexy Cissy books. Kat thought Lennon would faint if she found out about them, so she kept quiet about it. Lennon had invited Kat to her home to chat about the conference in more detail, and here they were.
“Did you really say you could get Jay Talbot to speak?” Kat asked. She was a truly excellent memoir writer. Kat didn’t usually read non-fiction, but Talbot’s book had been recommended so highly to her that she’d read it. And wow, the woman had some serious psychological insights. There was something sort of magical about her words, although Kat couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
“Yes,” Lennon said, her eyes lighting up. “Isn’t it wonderful? It was actually pretty easy because my pastor is Hunter Moncherry. He’s married to Georgina Moncherry, who is – believe it or not – Jay’s sister.”
“Oh,” Kat said. “Small world, huh?”
Lennon smiled. “God works in mysterious ways. I’m sure we’ll fill the theater because of her. In fact, we could probably fill a stadium. I’ll bet the tickets for the theater will sell out in a day or two.” She rushed over to fill the blue water bowls of her golden retrievers, Oliver and (rather unimaginatively, Kat thought) Goldie.
Once the cookies were baked, the two of them sat at the table with cups of tea, warm cookies, and watched YouTube. There were some interruptions now and then from Gideon, who needed help with his worksheets. Esther and Abigail were napping upstairs and Lennon had the video baby monitors in front of her on the kitchen table.
They weren’t watching YouTube for fun – no, Lennon was far too busy for that. Rather, they were identifying speakers they could add to the conference. While neither Lennon nor Kat was used to public speaking, they wanted everyone else to be a little more experienced, if possible. That way, if they didn’t do so well, at least they could rely on their fellow speakers to put on a good show.
Their criteria for selecting a speaker was pretty straightforward: Has written at least one book that sold well, lives in Kansas, and has a video of public speaking on YouTube. The Kansas part was the toughest of the criteria, of course.
But eventually they found three more wonderful candidates - a Christian romance writer in her late 60’s from the western part of the state, a young single mom who wrote thrillers, and a young, edgy ‘business and empowerment’ guru, EJ Lewis.
Lewis was known for giving intense, hard-hitting motivational speeches on all kinds of business topics, his tattooed biceps bulging out of his trademark tight tees. They decided to reach out and see if he would give a speech on writing for their audience. He had a book out called No [expletive] Excuses! Lennon wasn’t very impressed with him, but Kat persuaded her to give him a try. He would add a different look to the list of speakers, and with him in the lineup, they had a really wide variety that could attract all types of writers.
“Okay, let’s call him right away,” Lennon said.
Kat looked a little taken aback.
“That’s how I get it all done,” Lennon said. “I barely even have a to-do list. I just do everything right away as soon as I think of it.” She found EJ’s number on his website, picked up her phone, and called him. She spoke to his assistant, didn’t take no for an answer, refused to leave a message, then got put through directly to EJ.
Within minutes, he was booked as a speaker, and Lennon wasn’t even paying him all that much. “We can’t afford to,” she said, “since we’re keeping the ticket price real low. I told him he’d get great exposure, and he seemed to agree. So that’s done.”
Kat could do nothing but laugh in admiration. “Lennon, you’re a total whirlwind!”
She winked. “Powered by the Holy Spirit.”
They both laughed.
Lennon stood up and started packing the rest of the cookies into a blue-topped Tupperware. “Now, we have to move to the next location.”
It was quite something to see the Forbes clan in action. Both Gideon and Susannah were State Champions in trampolining in their sex and age group, so they practiced every day. That’s where they were going now. Everyone loaded up into the Chevy with minimal fuss and soon they were on their way.
Jethro and Candace both needed to go downtown – Candace to the library to study rock formations (she was into geology) and Jethro to get his guitar ‘set up.’ He mentioned it was starting to buzz and making the worship service at church sound awful. They were very polite, mature youngsters, and Kat silently marveled at them as she sat in the front seat.
When they got to the gym where the trampoline lesson was being held, Lennon and Kat, along with the two little ones, headed to the mezzanine floor that looked over the gym. They sat at a table and ordered coffee and cake, while Esther and Abigail sat down with some coloring books and some very specific instructions from their mommy that now was quiet coloring time, which meant sitting in their seats and working silently on their pictures.
After getting the two young children settled, Lennon turned to Kat and said
, “So, back to the order of speeches.” They decided that Jay, as the main speaker, would be at the very end. They’d put Lennon up front, as the host, and everyone else sandwiched in between, alternating between fiction and non-fiction authors.
Kat wrote down the list and then looked up at Lennon. “I think this works well.”
Lennon smiled, her head cocked to one side. “You know, you’re a real good person, Kat. I’m so glad we met, and that we’re doing this conference together. It’s going to be just great.”
Kat smiled. “I think you’re right, Lennon. If nothing else, it’s sure going to be fun.”
CHAPTER 2
“My kids are out in the car, I need to see him now,” Reiss Talbot demanded, a mirthless smile playing on his lips. He wore an expensive suit, and that, along with his tall, handsome appearance, made him look rather intimidating. He dwarfed everyone in the lawyer’s office with his very presence.
“I’m afraid, Mr. Talbot, that Mr. Hanson is with another client right now,” the receptionist said, not making eye contact.
Reiss edged closer to her desk. He placed his hands on it, smiled at her, and said, “Look, honey. I understand. Normally it’s like that. You know, if a client is in there, they stay in there until they’re done. But with me, it’s different. It’ll be his judgment call to make. Just let him know Mr. Talbot is here. That’s all you have to do.”
The receptionist started to look doubtful, certainly not as confident as she had been. Reiss knew he was winning. “Mr. Talbot, I—”
“You’re a superstar, Gemma. Gemma, it is, right?” Reiss said. “Lovely name. Just give him a quick message, Gemma. That’s the right thing to do. He’ll thank you for it, for sure. He loves for all his clients to be satisfied. A great man, he is. And he hires great staff, just like you. Go on, all you have to do is click the button. It’s that easy.”
She did it, just like he knew she would.
Within moments, a client was being escorted out of Hanson’s office. Reiss walked in and sat down opposite his lawyer.
Small Town Murder: Midwest Cozy Mystery Series Page 1
