by CeeCee James
Kicked the Bucket
CeeCee James
Copyright © 2020 by CeeCee James
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For my Family~
Contents
Blurb
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
Blurb
Trouble seems to follow Chelsea like baby ducks follow their mama. This time around, Chelsea's best friend, Tilly, has been accused of murdering her ex-boyfriend, Adam. When Adam's fiancé points the finger at Tilly, the police dig up a secret motivation that make things look really bad for Tilly.. and she has no alibi. There has to be a way to clear her friend, but Chelsea is running out of ideas. Meanwhile, Chelsea is chasing her own demons as a mystery surrounding her family comes to light. The more she learns about her past, the less sure she is of the future. Has everything in her life been a lie?
Chapter 1
You know that saying about a fish out of water? Well, those words have never been proven to be more true for this city girl than when I was yanked out of bed at the caustic squawking of George, the neighbor’s goose. There was no love lost between me and that avian. But, as of late, we’d come to an uneasy truce. A truce that, as I stared bleary-eyed out of my window, was soon to come to an abrupt end.
What the heck was going on? I rubbed my eyes and squinted. Jelly, our newest baby goat, was running out in the field, appearing to be chased by the gander. As I stared, the goat began kicking its tiny hooves in obvious joy. George was not up for any nonsense, and the white ball of avian fury stayed hot on the kid’s heels with feathered wings held wide.
Before I could blink, my best friend, Tilly, had joined the animal parade. She swung her arms as she ran, yelling for Jelly to stop.
Oh, look. Here comes Bean, the second baby goat, to join the troop of squallers.
My gaze swiveled back to George. Seemingly perturbed at Tilly’s outburst, he suddenly stopped and expressed a deep concern with the arrangement of his feathers. He preened himself with the precision of an artist’s paint strokes as the two goats continued to kick and dance around him. Like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Little faker.
By now, Tilly had caught up with Jelly, and I saw a rope tangled to one of her little hooves. Tilly untied it and then brushed her hands before heading in the direction of the barn.
Good morning to me.
My eyes narrowed. Where was Emma, Tilly’s six-year-old daughter? If there was any excitement to be had, she was usually in the middle of the fray, if not the instigator. Not seeing her was strange enough that I scrambled for my phone to check the time.
I groaned as I read it. Terrific. I’d slept in. Technically, it was no big emergency since my work hours had changed to late mornings. However, I absolutely hated sleeping in. It felt like the day was half wasted, and I had to spend the rest of the time playing catch-up.
I took a quick shower and then headed down to the kitchen. Jasper let out a joyous bark and came scrambling around the corner when my foot hit the one squeaky tread on the stairs. He jumped to greet me, and for a second, we had our own little dance. Finally I got him to calm down and gave him a good neck rub.
“How you doing, buddy? Did your momma keep you locked inside and make you miss all the excitement?”
His tongue lolled out with a happy dog smile as he trotted after me into the kitchen.
The scent of coffee and toast gave me a cozy good morning hug. I filled a mug to the brim and took a careful sip. Ahh. That was better.
I spun my wet hair up into a bun and then carried the steaming mug into the living room. The room was quiet and cool at this time of the morning. I arranged myself on the couch while trying to avoid the center cushion, which was extra squishy.
Jasper jumped up next to me and rested his head on my knee. He let out a nasally breath.
Absentmindedly, I scratched behind his ear as I flipped open my email app and scrolled through. Mostly spam. I barely read it because my mind was on other things.
Was I ready to send the email? What would I say? What if she didn’t answer back?
Just do it, my internal voice growled. This was no good. Putting it off was only going to make me dread doing it even more.
I held my breath as I opened up a new email. The cold prickle of feeling like a giant chicken started to creep in, but I shrugged it off and started to type.
Dear Nikki,
Biting my lip, I paused. Was Dear too formal? She was my sister. A sister I’d just recently learned about. Feeling a bit frantic, I backspaced and wrote, Hi Nikki.
I winced. Now that too casual. How was I ever going to be able to write what I wanted to say if I couldn’t even get past the greeting? This was ridiculous.
I took a gulp of coffee, which only made me more frantic as it scalded the back of my throat. Jasper lifted his head in concern as I started to cough.
“I’m okay,” I weakly told the dog and then stared at the email again.
All right. Let’s get this done. Just get the words out. Edit later.
Nikki.
You might not remember me. Honestly, I didn’t remember you either, at least, not more than the way you might remember a dream. However, weirdly enough, I carried this picture of the two of us with me for years. I didn’t realize it was of the two of us, I actually thought it was me in front of a mirror.
Anyway, whether I knew it was of you or not, I couldn’t let it go because it brought comfort to me every time I looked at it. And now I finally know why.
Your dad, William, came to see me the other day, and that’s how I learned it was you. I guess he’s my dad too, although he feels like a stranger. That’s no surprise since that’s the first time I remember meeting him. Anyway, my mom says that when we were girls, we clicked right away, like we intuitively knew we were sisters.
William said you were in some kind of trouble. He made it seem like it was a big deal, so I’m emailing to see if there is any way I can help. Also, I think it’s time for us to meet. I want to build a friendship between us again. I’m hoping you feel the same way. There’s no obligation, and if this is too intrusive, I respect that. Please just let me know if you get this.
Hope to hear from you soon. Take care.
Chelsea
I reread it and then added the postscript— You don’t need to worry about any judgement. I just want to hear from you.
This is it. Biting my bottom lip, I hit send—I won’t lie. My hand was trembling—and then took another sip from the coffee. This time, I was more careful.
Jasper hopped off the couch with a thump. He walked toward the foyer with his ears erect and alert. Someone must be here.
I searched out the window but, other than a silver truck zipping down the road, I didn’t see anyone.
Still, Jasper was insistent. The fluff on the back of his neck raised as I watched, and I swear I heard a low growl as he paced before the d
oor. Then he barked and that made the hair on my neck stand up. Slowly, I set down the mug and stood.
The dog’s stance hadn’t changed. The growl was there, and louder now. I looked out the window again, and seeing nothing, tip-toed toward the door.
“What’s the matter, buddy?” I whispered.
He stared at me and whined.
Whoever was out there, Tilly was also outside with them. Biting my lip, I ripped the door open.
The porch was empty. As was the driveway and the yard.
The dog darted out before I could grab him.
“Jasper! Get over here!”
Get over here, he did not. In fact, as if he had a rocket strapped to his back, he zipped across the driveway and was now ducking underneath the fence into the pasture. A second later, he was a doggy blur, bounding above the grass.
I cocked my head to listen. George was back at it again. Something was going on out there. However, he didn’t sound like he was angry this time. No, he sounded like he was in trouble.
George squawked again. I hurriedly slipped my shoes on and then started running. Truce or not, no one was going to mess with the gander on my watch.
I ducked under the top rail of the fence and ran out through the grass toward the pond at the bottom of the property. Ripples of sunlit water blinked through the waving grass, looking like brilliant dancing sparks.
I had no time to admire the scene. George was unrelenting. Finally, I was close enough to see him swaying back and forth, his wings held wide open. His lithe neck stretched as he hissed.
That was his threatening pose. But who was he threatening? Jasper?
I searched for the dog and found him staring out into the pond. The sun’s glare off of the water made me squint, and I had no idea what had caught his attention. George stomped his fat feet. He circled to the side and suddenly I saw what he was screaming at.
It was a silver pail filled with flowers.
“What the heck is going on out here?”
I whirled around to see Tilly standing next to me. “Where’d you come from?” I asked.
“Just finished feeding the goats. What’s got George so upset?” Her brow furrowed. “He’s been in a mood all morning.”
Glancing back at the pond, I pointed, “And Jasper.”
She shielded her eyes and groaned. “Jasper! Jasper! Get back here!”
He was swimming in the dark water. Ripples moved from his body and reflected a million points of the sun.
“What’s he after? A stick? First thing he’s going to do when he gets out is to roll in the dirt.” Her lips pursed in that frustrated look I knew so well. She whistled sharply.
The dog ignored her. I wasn’t surprised. He always ignored me too.
Tilly tried yelling this time. “Jasper, you get back here right this instant.”
Now we both had our eyes shielded. Jasper had reached his goal and was nipping at something to bring it back to the shore.
My jaw dropped.
Tilly’s tone reached a fevered pitch. “Jasper! You leave that alone!” As he continued to ignore her, Tilly changed her tactic. “Treat! Come on boy, get your treat!” Even as she was saying this, she was scrambling in her pocket.
But what she was looking for was no treat. It was the phone, and in a heartbeat she’d made a call.
“Hello? I have a dead body floating in my pond!”
Chapter 2
The intervening time between waiting for the police to come and the coroner taking the body away was only interrupted with Tilly grabbing the soaking wet dog to lock him in the house. She left me alone by the water. Even George had abandoned me. Having had his fill of the flowers, he’d toddled off through the swaying grass back to the neighbor’s house.
It was slightly disconcerting to be all alone. I spent the time pacing back and forth, smashing a path into the underbrush. It was quiet out there, a fake peacefulness that meshed the sounds of the soft splashing waves, the warm sun, and the floating body into a bizarre horror scene.
I heard a noise and saw that Tilly was on her way back. I was slightly miffed that she wasn’t hurrying. Then I heard the emergency sirens and soon the police were there as well, breaking the silence with demands and squeals of the radio.
After the initial questioning, the police directed us to wait to one side. Tilly crossed her arms and watched the going-ons with a frown.
The police milled around, placing little white flags here and there. We stood in silence. I think we were both afraid to say anything.
Eventually, the coroner came, and the body was fished out (the splashing sound caused shivers to run down my back so I honestly didn’t watch) and then put on a stretcher. I heard the chink of metal clasps on the straps as they secured the body, and glanced over to catch an officer going through the dead man’s blue shirt pockets. He pulled out a wallet and read what appeared to be the license. It sounded like he said, “Corey Brickstone.” I wasn’t sure about that, though, and I’d never heard the name before.
A new police officer showed up, huffing and puffing as he came through the field. He appeared past retirement age, if you asked me, and he wore a sullen frown of someone who regretted his decision to continue to work instead of lying out on a beach in Florida somewhere.
After speaking with some of his younger colleagues, he headed our way.
“Ladies.” He nodded. “I’m Officer Orville. I have a few questions I’d like to go over with you.”
Tilly chimed in, arms still crossed. “Me as well. This is my land and we’re just stuck over here and told not to move. What’s going on? Who was that guy? Why was he here?”
“Seems to me those would be questions I should be asking you.”
“Well, I have no idea. We came down here because our animals were upset. I called you as soon as I saw him.” Tilly answered.
The officer’s bloodshot eyes locked onto mine. His nose was bulbous and red and the pores stood out like the seeds on a strawberry. As I watched, he yanked out a handkerchief from his back pocket and gave his schnoz a resounding honk. He stuffed the violated cloth back in his pocket.
I was already shaking my head before he could hit me with those same questions. “I know the same as her. Never saw him before in my life. Not that I got a good look.”
“You didn’t check him out?”
I swallowed, nauseous at the thought, and shook my head again.
Orville reached into his front pocket and pulled out a tooth pick. He stuck it in his mouth, his nostrils widening with a deep exhale. “Either of you see anyone around here this morning?”
I started to say no, and then I remembered, “Well, there was one person.”
He gave me a glare like I’d purposefully withheld something from him. “Yes?”
“A truck drove by. I remember it was speeding, but other than that, I didn’t pay attention to it.”
“You got a make of the vehicle?”
“No. It was silver.”
“Two cab?”
“I’m not sure.” I shrugged. I was lucky I remembered it at all.
He nodded and barked to another officer who was placing a flag into the soft earth. “Nelson! Put an APB out on a silver truck that might still be in the area.” Then he waved his hand, dismissing him.
“You got it,” the young officer said and spoke into his mic.
Officer Orville left us then and walked abruptly away back into the field in the direction of his patrol car. Apparently we had been dismissed as well.
“You think we can go?” I whispered to Tilly. My wet hair was feeling a bit fuzzy being in the breezy air, despite the bun. Plus, I had work to get ready for.
“Are you talking to me?” asked the young cop. He walked over, his eyes oddly locked onto our feet.
I spoke louder. “I was wondering if there was anything else. Are we free to go?”
His gaze swept up to our faces. “I’m Officer Nelson. Do either of you own cowboy boots?”
I shook my head while Ti
lly answered no.
“We have some prints here. They look like they came from square-toed cowboy boots.” He stood up in a smooth motion, emanating muscle strength. “My Grandpa had a similar pair. You have any idea of where they came from?”
At the mention of his grandfather, I briefly thought of Freckles. He was our yardman who lived in the barn and very much reminded me of a skinny Santa Claus. But he didn’t wear cowboy boots. Instead, he had a pair of waffle-soled work boots that Tilly had bought him.
Officer Nelson continued. “I’ll have someone make a plaster cast of this. Make sure you keep away from the area. Keep the animals out.”
I noticed now that Officer Orville was gone, this one was getting bossier and bolder by the minute. Still I nodded.
Suddenly, he sneezed.
“Gesundheit. We have a cow that isn’t going to like being locked up in her stall all day. How much time is this going to take?” Tilly asked.
His eyes softened when he looked at her. A tiny smile quirked up the corner of his lip. “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you worry about that. They’re on their way.”
I rolled my eyes. How was it that every guy was butter in her hand?
“All right, ladies. You’re free to go about your day. We’ll call you if we have any more questions.”
We plowed back through the field to corral the animals into their stalls. Somehow I was stuck with Rosy the cow, while Tilly went after the goats.
As soon as Rosy saw me, she kicked her heels and started jogging the opposite direction. I strode over carefully, trying to keep an eye out for any cow patties. The irony wasn’t lost on me that it was the first time I’d ever seen her run.
