by Jessica Beck
"That gun hasn’t worked in thirty years," she said.
"Don’t try me," he said.
We both heard Abel’s voice shaking as he said it, and I wondered if he had what it took to pull the trigger.
Sally started to turn toward him, the gun in her hand going straight toward him, and to Abel’s credit, he didn’t even hesitate.
There was a sudden boom, and I saw Sally collapse back into one of the holes she’d dug for me and my family, the pistol flying from her hands into the woods as she fell.
I got up, and Abel and I walked over to the makeshift grave and looked down.
"Is she dead?" I asked.
"She shouldn’t be. I aimed for her legs, but I couldn’t take too much of a chance. I was afraid that I’d hit you, too," Abel said.
He got a match from his pocket, lit it, and then he held it over the hole.
We both looked down and saw Sally struggling to stand and pull herself out of the hole, to no avail.
"I can’t believe you just shot me!" she said, her voice seething with rage.
"Believe it. You know, maybe trying to climb out of that hole isn’t such a good idea after all. Do you really want to get shot again?" Abel asked.
Sally suddenly slumped down, and Abel tossed the match into the hole with her.
"Hey," she snapped indignantly, and for some reason, I started laughing and crying at the same time.
"I don’t know what’s wrong with me," I said through my giggles and my tears. "I can’t seem to stop myself."
"You’re just reacting to nearly being killed," Abel said. "It’s perfectly natural."
After a few more giggles and the last of the tears, thankfully I was finally able to get myself under control. What an odd way to behave.
"Do you have your cell phone on you, Victoria?" Abel asked softly.
I nodded, and pulled it out of my pocket. It hadn’t done me much good on the drive over, but I could surely use it now.
"Sheriff, we need you behind Sally Ketchum’s farm," I said. "You might want to bring an ambulance with you, too. Abel Link had to shoot her to keep her from killing me."
Thanksgiving Day
"We need more yams," I called out through the pass-through window at the diner. "And if you’ve got more mashed potatoes, I wouldn’t say no."
"They’re a hungry lot today," Greg said with a smile, and then turned to my grandfather. "Moose, how are we doing on the yams?"
"Don’t ask me. Those are both in your mother-in-law’s part of the kitchen," he said.
Mom laughed. "If you ask me, there are too many cooks back here. We’re all stumbling all over each other every time we turn around."
"I don’t know. I’d say things are just right," Moose said with a broad smile.
Out front, Martha and I were waiting tables, even though Ellen and Jenny had both come by to help out on their day off, too. There was no need for anyone to work the cash register. Thanksgiving was the one day of the year we opened the diner and offered food free of charge for those who couldn’t afford their own meals, or had to dine alone. We were always packed, we lost a great deal of money, and it was one of the happiest days in our year.
I looked around at the folks I loved, thankful again for having each and every one of them in my life. There was nothing like almost dying to put it all in perspective, not that I’d been short of thanks before. This was different, and we all knew it. Our blessings reached well beyond the things we owned. They were more significant because we had each other to share them with, both the highs and lows.
And after all, that was the best reason to be thankful there was.
If you enjoyed A Deadly Beef, be sure to try the next in the series,
A Killer Cake, COMING SOON!
Chapter 1
The moment the big gun went off, everybody gathered in the town square for the celebration believed that the Civil War cannon was responsible for killing Roy Thompson. After all, his seat at the long table filled with folks eating lunch or having dessert was in the direct line of fire of the old weaponry, and it hadn’t been fired in donkey years. However, it turned out that the chamber was indeed empty when it had been fired, and though the noise and ensuing shock wave of the explosion could have been enough to stop his heart, neither had been the cause of his death.
It wasn’t long before I found myself wishing that the cannon had indeed been the method of Roy’s demise. Soon enough, word spread through town like a hurricane that what really did him in was the Jasper Fork bicentennial cake. The fact that my diner had provided it for the festivities meant that once again, my family was in the crosshairs of another murder investigation.
My name is Victoria Nelson, and along with my sometimes dysfunctional, but always loving family, I run The Charming Moose Diner. The place was named after my grandfather a long time ago, and I loved the distinctive moniker. It’s easy enough to explain how we ended up volunteering to bake the murder weapon for our town’s celebration, but it might be better to go back to the day before Roy collapsed after taking his first bite of our cake.
Table of Contents
Books by Jessica Beck Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
GREG’S POT ROAST Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Mom’s Potato and Carrot Soup Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
THE FAMOUS MOOSEBURGER Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Thanksgiving Day
Excerpt from A Killer Cake
Table of Contents
Books by Jessica Beck
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
GREG’S POT ROAST
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Mom’s Potato and Carrot Soup
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
THE FAMOUS MOOSEBURGER
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Thanksgiving Day
Excerpt from A Killer Cake
