Pretty, Hip, & Venomous

by Madison Johns

  Pretty, Hip and Venomous

  Madison Johns

  Contents

  Preorder

  Copyright

  Disclaimer

  Credits

  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

  About the Author

  Other Books by This Author

  Coming in November

  Tawas Goes Hollywood now available for preorder.

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 Madison Johns

  Pretty, Hip and Venomous Madison Johns

  All rights reserved.

  http://madisonjohns.com

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Credits

  Thanks to reader Brandy Raskin Chesham for help with the title selection.

  There’s nothing like going to bingo and scarfing down junk food, unless something dreadful happens, like a woman dying from poisoned lemonade.

  Agnes Barton arrives late for bingo in Redwater and immediately is in investigative role as she assists Kimberly Steele. The first responders are working on Milly Clark, and all the sleuths can do is look on in horror.

  Kimberly and Agnes make an admirable team, and with the arrival of Eleanor Mason, they can’t fail as they search for the source of the deadly lemonade, which leads them to learn that Milly’s gossiping has resulted in misfortune for her neighbors.

  When they delve deeply into Milly’s gossip, they can’t help but wonder if her wagging tongue caused her death. But will they be able to solve this case before the next bingo and yet another resident is murdered?

  Chapter One

  Kimberly Steele made her way through the crowd at the United Auto Workers hall, juggling four cans of pop, bags of chips and candy bars, shaking her long blond hair out of her face. It was Monday night bingo at the hall, and she spent most of the night wrangling snacks for normally beer-slugging Mrs. Barry and the bird sisters, Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. Canary. Even Mrs. Peacock’s red and green feathered macaw, Birdie, was in attendance. When Kimberly first learned they allowed Birdie to attend she had to shake her head in disapproval. She knew one thing for certain: A bird doesn’t belong at a bingo. Kimberly thought it might even violate the local health codes.

  Back at the table, Kimberly handed out the snacks. Just as she was about to sit in front of her four bingo cards, Mrs. Barry gave her gray head a pat and said, “Didn’t I say I wanted a Snickers?”

  “Let the girl sit down,” Mrs. Peacock scolded. “She’s pregnant and needs to be off her feet.”

  “I’m fine really,” Kimberly quickly said as she stared across the table at Mrs. Barry, who tapped her fingernails on one of the twenty bingo cards in front of her. “I don’t know how you ladies do it. I can barely keep track of four bingo cards.”

  Mrs. Barry smiled as she cleared the circular plastic markers from her cards. “I’ve been going to bingo since before you were born.”

  “And interestingly enough, Mrs. Barry can cover her bingo numbers better than she can drive,” Mrs. Canary said.

  Mrs. Barry frowned, narrowing her eyes at the ridiculous assumption. “I’ll have you know I just renewed my driver’s license and it only took me three tries to pass the eye test.” She turned to Kimberly. “I had the most wonderful young lady taking care of me, and she was kind enough to be patient with me, unlike some people I could mention.”

  “Three tries should be a fail, if you ask me,” Mrs. Canary shot back.

  “Be careful, sister. You have to renew your license this year too,” Mrs. Peacock warned.

  Kimberly peeked at her cell phone and frowned. “It seems Jeremy is having trouble with the baby.”

  “Don’t you dare get up,” Mrs. Barry said. “It’s about time a man takes care of his own children.”

  “It’s only one baby at the moment,” Kimberly said as she patted her growing abdomen. “Abigail has been fussy all day.”

  “Is she teething yet?” Mrs. Barry asked.

  “She’s been drooling a lot, but I don’t feel any teeth coming through yet.”

  “Still, you should probably buy some of that numbing gel.”

  “And a little painkiller couldn’t hurt,” Mrs. Peacock added.

  Kimberly gasped in shock. “She’s too young for that.”

  “It never killed any of my children,” Mrs. Barry said.

  “Give your doctor a call and find out what the right dosage would be since you refuse to listen to us,” Mrs. Peacock said.

  “It’s not that, I assure you, but the pediatrician was so insistent that I should call him before giving Abigail anything.”

  “Him?” Barry asked with a smile. “Sounds like your doctor might be sweet on you.”

  “She never said anything about the doctor asking her to call him for a house call,” said Mrs. Canary with a shake of her curls.

  Kimberly put up a finger to stop the so-far friendly banter. “My doctor is quite an old man.” She then bit her lip when the ladies glanced at her pointedly. “He’ll be eighty this year.”

  “It’s understandable then to call him an old man,” Barry said.

  They fell silent as the bingo caller took his position and the lighted screen displayed four corners.

  “This will be a long game,” Mrs. Peacock said. “I bet they call only I, N or G numbers.”

  For the most part that was what happened, and Kimberly sighed in frustration as only two of her cards had a B or O number. That wasn’t the case for Mrs. Barry, whose tongue hung out of her mouth as she waited for B1 to be called.

  “I -22,” the caller said, and a woman jumped up and waved her hands frantically.

  “You can’t have a four-corner bingo with an I -22 number,” Mrs. Barry yelled.

  Most of the people in the hall stared at Mrs. Barry, but then a scream echoed from across the room.

  Kimberly hopped up and raced to the back of the hall, where a woman sat with her head slumped on a table. She moved around her and checked the pulse of the woman, whose face was gray. Yellow liquid dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

  The bingo caller raced to the table, and with the help of several players, moved the woman to the floor. He began chest compressions.

  Kimberly’s stomach rumbled when more yellow liquid gushed from the corners of the unconscious woman’s mouth. The bingo caller continued pumping on the woman’s chest.

  Kimberly spotted a yellow beverage spilled on the table and exclaimed, “The woman has been poisoned!”

  An emergency medical services crew barged into the hall and took over from the bingo caller. Kimberly kept saying, “I believe the woman was poisoned.”

  “Give them some space,” Deputy Danworth ordered, trying to usher the players back from the
body on the floor.

  Kimberly backed away and asked, “What was Martha drinking?”

  “It’s not Martha, it’s Milly,” an old man said as he wiped his hands on his overalls. “I thought she was drinking lemonade.”

  “But that doesn’t look like lemonade,” Kimberly observed.

  “I’ve never seen lemonade that thick,” a voice said.

  Kimberly nodded at the new arrival, Agnes Barton from Tawas, Mich., who was vacationing in Redwater.

  “Oh great, another interruption,” Danworth grumbled.

  “I’m hardly here to distract you from your duties, deputy,” Agnes said. “I was just pointing out the obvious. Kimberly already observed that whatever the victim was drinking couldn’t have been lemonade.”

  “How about we don’t call her a victim when she’s being worked on by the paramedics.”

  “And obviously not able to be revived,” she said pointedly.

  Danworth scowled at Kimberly. “Where were you when the lady collapsed?”

  “I don’t know why I have to be the focus of this investigation.”

  Danworth tapped his note pad with his pen. “So you’re not going to answer my question? I didn’t call this an investigation, you did.”

  “Fine. I was across the room near the snack bar,” she pointed out.

  “So you had access to the snack bar?”

  “I suppose when you say it like that, but the only time I went anywhere near the snack bar was to purchase drinks and snacks for Mrs. Barry and the bird sisters.”

  “And did you also purchase lemonade?”

  “I don’t even know if they sell lemonade. I bought canned pop.”

  “Where is Sheriff Barry?” Agnes asked, “watching reruns of the Super Bowl?”

  “No, he’s out of town.”

  “So now you have free rein to harass an innocent woman. And a pregnant one, at that.”

  “All I’m saying is that it’s strange that Kimberly seems to know exactly what has afflicted this woman,” Danworth said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she had a hand in this, is all I’m saying.”

  “That’s quite an accusation,” Kimberly barked.

  “Let’s move away from here so the deputies can do their job,” Agnes said.

  “Don’t let anyone leave,” Danworth shouted to the deputies, who body blocked the doors.

  Agnes took Kimberly’s hand and led her to the kitchenette. “We should start our investigation here. Whatever our victim drank came from the snack bar.”

  A middle-aged couple stood in the kitchenette. “What are you doing back here?” the woman challenged.

  “What beverages were you selling tonight?” Kimberly asked. “I only bought pop in cans, but poor Milly was poisoned with lemonade.”

  “Well, we don’t sell lemonade. We only buy canned pop to sell,” the woman said.

  “Could I get your name for the record?” Agnes asked.

  The woman laughed. “I don’t have to tell you anything. You’re not a cop.”

  “No, but we’ll be forced to tell Deputy Dumbass ... I mean Danworth,” Agnes smirked.

  “Fine, Nancy and Ben Shepard.”

  “That name certainly sounds familiar,” Kimberly said. “I believe one of you had an appointment with Jeremy Preston this week. He’s my husband.”

  “What?” Nancy asked as she glared at her husband. “Are you planning to file for divorce again?”

  “Oops,” Kimberly said as she slinked out the door with Agnes.

  Birdie paced on a nearby table. “Crazy lady ... crazy lady.”

  “What is that bird doing here?” Agnes asked.

  “None of your —.”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Birdie,” Mrs. Peacock scolded.

  “Why does Birdie have such a foul mouth?” Agnes asked.

  Mrs. Canary laughed. “My sister had always wanted a bird to be obtrusive. And she has a mouth like a sailor at times.”

  “Only when I argue with you sister.”

  “Did someone have a heart attack again?” Mrs. Barry asked motioning across the room.

  “No. We think Milly was poisoned,” Kimberly whispered. “Whatever she drank didn’t look like anything for purchase at the snack bar.”

  “Sometimes I sneak in snacks,” Mrs. Barry admitted.

  “Yes, of the alcohol variety,” Mrs. Peacock added with a smirk.

  “At least I don’t bring my dog to bingo.”

  “That’s because your dog died more than five years ago, dear. Don’t you remember.”

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Barry frowned.

  “What can you tell us about Milly?” Agnes asked.

  “Milly who?” Mrs. Barry asked.

  “Milly Clark,” Kimberly supplied. “She’s the victim.”

  “And you say she was poisoned?” Mrs. Barry asked.

  Kimberly nodded. “Well, we believe so.”

  “What makes you say that?” Mrs. Canary asked.

  “Well, yellow liquid was leaking from her mouth and the glass of what looked like lemonade was quite thick.”

  “Do any of you know anything about Milly Clark?” Agnes asked with a notable frown.

  “I must admit I can’t imagine anyone trying to hurt Milly. She’s the church secretary at First Baptist,” Mrs. Canary said. “She volunteers at the drug recovery center.”

  “Is that all you know about Milly?”

  “I imagine her sister Endora would have more to share about her sister.”

  “How long have you been in town, Agnes?” Mrs. Peacock asked.

  “I’ve only been here a few days. We’ve rented a lovely little cottage on the lake.”

  “Does that mean your annoying partner in crime, Eleanor, is in town too?” Mrs. Barry asked snottily.

  “You don’t have to be so grumpy about it,” Mrs. Canary gasped.

  “Oh, you can’t tell me that Eleanor doesn’t get on your nerves when she’s in town.”

  “She can be a little annoying at times, I must admit, but so can other people I won’t mention,” Agnes said. “Eleanor will be in town sometime today. And complaining that I was at a crime scene without her, no doubt.”

  “It’s not as if you can control when a crime might happen, but it seems that whenever you or Eleanor are in town there is a crime spree,” Mrs. Barry pointed out.

  “Well, I hope that we won’t have a crime spree. Of course, if the lemonade was poisoned ... .”

  “They said they don’t sell lemonade,” Kimberly reminded Agnes.

  “I know that’s what they said, but we should go around back and check to be certain.”

  “Why would we do that?” Kimberly asked.

  “To check the trash of course.”

  “You want poor Kimberly to go back with you to check the trash?” Mrs. Canary asked.

  Kimberly sighed. There they go again, talking about her as if she’s not even standing right here, and treating her as though she’s fragile.

  “How will we get around the cops?” Kimberly asked.

  “Through the back door. I’m certain they’re not barricading the door to the kitchen where supplies are carried in.” And with a sweeping Vanna White motion, she alerted them to the deputies that barred the two entrances of the hall.

  Kimberly and Agnes slipped into the snack bar, now empty. Agnes snooped in the refrigerator while Kimberly checked the back door.

  “I wonder where the Shepards ran off to.”

  “I think they went through here,” Kimberly said.

  Kimberly pushed the door open and led the way outside. She smiled because there weren’t any deputies in sight. They walked to the Dumpster, pinching their noses to avoid the smell of rotting garbage.

  Agnes lifted the lid and peeked in. “I don’t think we’ll be able to check in there. But I wonder if they have a compactor for cardboard.”

  Kimberly walked across the lot where, behind a small gate she found a compactor. She frowned when she found it empty. “So much for that th
eory. It’s been compacted already.”

  Agnes stooped down and picked up a broken-down box and waved it with a nod. “Apparently they might have been selling lemonade after all.”

  Kimberly frowned. “So they lied. But why?”

  “That’s a good question, and one we won’t know the answer to until we hunt down Nancy and Ben Shepard.”

  “I can check with Jeremy. Ben certainly had an appointment with him on Tuesday. All I’ll have to do is check his appointment book to find their address.”

  “Sounds great, but it’s too late to do that now. We can either go back inside or leave.”

  “I’d rather leave. I’ve already been accused of poisoning Milly.”

  “That Deputy Danworth certainly has it out for you,” Agnes observed.

  “I hate to say anything bad about anyone, but that man has been a pain in my side ever since he was hired in Redwater.”

  “Is there reason he’s so unkind to you?” Agnes asked.

  “I have no clue, but he hates dogs. He’s fined me a number of times whenever Weenie has gotten loose on the beach.”

  “You still have that adorable dachshund?”

  “Yes, but my mother took him with her on vacation. Apparently she believes he’ll scare off the bears.” Kimberly shrugged. “So do we leave or not?”

  “You could leave, but I think I need to stay here to speak with whoever Milly was with at the table with,” Agnes said.

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Kimberly and Agnes walked back inside to the sight of deputies escorting the bingo players outside, and Deputy Danworth approaching.

  “I’ll have to ask you ladies to leave.”