A Merry Branson Murder (A Tiny House Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Abby L. Vandiver

  When I tried to make my way back to my house I could feel eyes boring holes into me. I wondered how I would defend myself from the motley crew when a few police officers showed up and made everyone get off of the lawn and out of the yard so they could remove the body.

  That saved me and I started to pick up my step to make it inside safely.

  As they came out, the body inside of a black bag, lying atop of a gurney, stopped me. I stood and stared, there were gasps from the crowd, and it just all seemed surreal. Then, out of nowhere, a shout came from the right. It made everyone turn to look.

  “How come they don’t have you handcuffed?” was the high-pitched roar. “You’re the killer!”

  It was Clover Carling, standing in the newly cleared yard. One leg stretched out in front of the other, her one arm outstretched pointing a finger at me like she was performing with the Jackson Five. I waited for her to start moving her head back and forth.

  She had on a different flowered muumuu than the one I’d seen her in earlier. And the bellow she emitted came from down deep and probably reverberated all the way around the corner.

  “Wha-” I started to speak, but before I could I saw her take off running and letting out some kind of warrior cry, she came straight toward me.

  “OMG!” I screeched and anchored my feet into the ground. While she ran I assessed her size and momentum, and thought how that would feel if she slammed into my sized four, 5’3” inch frame. I couldn’t brace myself enough to take the impact, especially not in my 4 1/2” peep-toe Steve Madden booties. So I waited until she was a couple of inches away and I did a side-step.

  She was expecting to ram into me and kind of did a dive when she got close. Since I’d moved, she fly right past me. She did a belly flop onto the grass, sliding nose first into the asphalt drive.

  I got cheers from the crowd, and while I was soaking up my accolades, I felt a rumbling in the ground. I looked up to find a shirtless, bubble-bellied, sumo wrestler-looking man, hands and arms in a clawing position sprinting toward me with a snarl on his face.

  “Oh my!” I said. “Not again!”

  I knew I didn’t want him to touch me at all. He looked like he’d been bitten by a rabid dog, face scrunched up, teeth clenched, and foam dribbling from his mouth. So when he got close, I did another side-step, but this time I spun around, sweeping my foot under his. He should have flipped over, but his center of gravity was off do to the size of his midsection and he did like a side roll - arms flailing, legs twisted. It wasn’t pretty.

  The crowd erupted again, clapping and cheering. The police scrambled to stop the commotion and out of the side of my eye, I saw good neighbor Andie smiling at me.

  I wanted to take a bow, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do seeing the gravity of the situation. So I just retreated into my house.

  Alfie was up on the couch. He’d been looking out of the window at everything and turned to look at me when I came in.

  “Did you see me out there swerving and ducking?” I did a couple of jabs into the air. “Oh yeah!”

  Alfie turned his head and looked at me. Tongue hanging out.

  “Okay. Okay. I know,” I said and let my arms drop. “Another mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.” He barked seemingly saying it was all on me.

  I plopped down next to him and stroked his fur. “How are we ever going to explain to Dedek about this? I do have to call and tell him.” I sighed.

  First though, I figured I’d better call Ava Dewey at Harrington. She needed to know what happened, and she needed to notify the family in case the police or the Piedmont Community Watch Committee, the Dallasandro’s neighborhood, aka Andie and Clover’s group hadn’t. But I only got the answering service, so I left a message, being sure not to go into detail. Even though it was their job to deliver information from callers, messages seemed to get distorted when relayed from person to person. I’d rather tell her what happened on my own. Plus, how does one leave a message that someone has just been murdered?

  I let out another sigh and ended the call. In a way, I was glad Ave hadn’t been around to to take the call. She’d known about the murder in Collierville, and I didn’t want her thinking that I attracted such things.

  Although, it sure was beginning to look like I did.

  Chapter Five

  “A murder!” he said.

  I closed my eyes. It was déjà vu . . .

  My Dedek has said the same thing when I told him about the murder in Collierville. The exact same thing.

  But to be fair, I supposed that would be most people’s reaction.

  I had called him to let him know what had happened. I didn’t suspect he’d see it on the news or anything, but I did need someone to talk to about it.

  “What have you done, now?” my grandfather asked.

  That too had been his reaction – thinking I’d done it. “Are you still trying to buy these overpriced clothes?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said. I glanced out the window. All of the spectators had dispersed and it seemed quiet.

  “No one sees this many murders unless they are the police or they commit the murders,” he shook his head. “And you are not the police.”

  “Dedek, do you really think I did it?”

  He drew in a breath. “Tell me what happened.”

  So just as I had relayed the story of murder in Collierville to him, I told him about the murder in Branson. And just like last time, I left out part of the story.

  I thought it best not to tell Dedek about the warring neighbors who were dead set on giving me grief. I figured if he knew how the neighbors were railing against me, he’d surely want me to hightail it out of there.

  “So is it the family again who are the suspects?” he asked.

  “What family?”

  “The one for the people of the house where you are staying.”

  “Oh,” I said. The suspects of the murder in Collierville had been all family members. “No, Dedek, the entire family is gone. They went on vacation and left me with their dog. That’s why they needed me.”

  “Then who killed her?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “This time it could be anyone in the whole world.”

  “Not anyone,” he said. “It couldn’t have been me.”

  “Or me,” I heard Troian say in the background.

  “Hi Troian,” I said waving my hand, which I knew he couldn’t see. No way was my grandfather going to turn the screen so I could see him.

  “Answer my question,” my grandfather said.

  “What question?” I asked.

  “Who killed her?” he said and leaned so far into the screen that the pixels that made up his face couldn’t adjust quickly enough. He had turned into a mess of colored boxes.

  “I told you Dedek,” I said. “I don’t know.”

  “Well find out,” he said.

  “Why in the world would I want to do that?” I screeched. “I don’t want to get involved.”

  “You are involved. Didn’t you tell me that Swan is a suspect?”

  Now he was just making up stuff.

  “No, Dedek, I didn’t say that.”

  “You said she was angry and wanted you to beat the girl up.”

  “She said she wanted me to do karate on her,” I said. “But she was kidding.” I tilted my head. “I think she was kidding.”

  “Maybe she is the murderer,” I heard Troian say.

  “I am doing the talking here,” my Dedek said turning his head away from the monitor. “You are here to cook.” He turned back to look at me. “Don’t listen to him.”

  “Dedek,” I said. “That isn’t nice.”

  “It is nice. He definitely doesn’t know how to solve a murder, he is not even a very good cook.”

  I took in a breath.

  “You have to help Swan,” Dedek said. “I will help too.”

  “No,” I said. “I can’t.” I let my head roll around and closed my eyes.

  “Not
even to help, Swan?”

  “Dedek, Swan did not drive over here and kill that girl. She didn’t even know where I’d be. I didn’t tell her the address.”

  “Perhaps she followed you,” he said.

  “I was just thinking that,” Troian said off-screen.

  Dedek turned the monitor inward. “He has no original ideas,” he said lowering his voice. “Who does the police think did it?”

  “I don’t know, Dedek.” Then I muttered, “And I don’t care,”

  “I heard that,” he said.

  “Dedek,” I whined.

  “You are staying in a house where someone was killed and you tell me you don’t care?”

  “I’m not staying in that house,” I reminded him.

  “Find out what happened,” he said. “You are around when these murders happen for a reason.”

  “Bad luck?” I heard Troian yell out.

  Yes, I was sure that’s what it was.

  Chapter Six

  I just didn’t have it in me to get involved in another murder investigation. I could fight crowds at the mall, the overzealous would-be-suitor at the bar, but I didn’t want to get involved in murder. Not again.

  Okay, so I was already in it, technically, but I didn’t want to be any further involved in it.

  Dedek wanted me to figure out whodunit. Why? My name had been cleared, with the police that is, even though Clover Carling, Neighbor Nuisance Nelly, was sure I’d done it. So as it was, I saw no reason to go and stick my nose any deeper.

  And regardless to what my Dedek said, I wasn’t going to do it.

  The police had talked to Andie, whose last name I found out was Halliwell, the same as the witches on Charmed. So it was luck, or maybe a little magic, that had saved me from being a suspect. It seemed that he had been watching me the entire time I was there. Marking my arrival and departure times in that little notebook of his. “Meticulous” is what the police detective had called him.

  After finding that out about him, and seeing how Clover Carling was always showing up, I wondered why the Dallasandros thought they needed to hire me. Andie could get them a detailed account of everything that happened at their house while they were gone, and the Carlings would attack them, and I’m sure, send any would-be intruders running for the Ozark Mountains.

  I wasn’t one to back away from things. My half-Japanese, half-black father wished he had a boy and while I was still his “little girl” he made sure I was involved in sports, particularly to showcase his heritage, martial arts, where I excelled. That pleased him.

  My ability to fight wasn’t the only thing I’d gleaned from my upbringing. I was also a polyglot.

  Because of my family I spoke four languages – English, Japanese, Slovene, and French. Not very handy in America where everyone is speaking Spanish. Although I picked up that language while I was trying to live the big life in LA. I was considering learning Chinese, the number one spoken language in the world, because well so many people did and . . .

  There I go not keeping focused again.

  I had to think of a way to get out of trying to find out who killed Blu James without lying to Dedek. He would be calling me soon wanting to know what I’d found out.

  Dedek, my maternal grandfather, was Yugoslavian. It wasn’t a country anymore, but you couldn’t tell him that. It often boasted how he was related to the last king of the country. So in his opinion, we were royalty, even me even though I was only half Yugoslavian.

  I was sitting slouched on the couch, stroking Alfie and staring at my iPad. I was dreading that it ringing with my Dedek on the other end wanting to know what I’d done to solve the case, when it rang.

  “OMG,” I said and jumped. It startled me, probably because I was concentrating so hard on it not ringing. I squinted, glancing over at it I tried to make it out through my eyelashes. The monitor didn’t look like it said, “Dedek,” so I opened my eyes and then sat up straight. It wasn’t Dedek, it was Swan.

  “Hi,” I said. “Didn’t I just talk to you a couple of hours ago?” That was true, it had been only a couple hours, but it seemed like forever.

  I didn’t share that with her though, especially seeing the reason I was having such a long day was due to her archenemy.

  “You have to come over here,” she said, panic in her voice.

  “Why?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you come?” she said. “I really need to see you.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Where’s Ethan?”

  She seemed upset, I thought maybe her husband could comfort her, at least until I could get there.

  “He’s. Not. Here,” she said. “I. Need. You.”

  Okay then, I thought. This day is getting weirder and weirder.

  “I’m on my way,” I said.

  Chapter Seven

  I poked my head out of the door of my house and jerked it from side to side. I had to make sure the coast was clear I didn’t want to be blindsided and tackled by the Pseudo Sumo Neighbors. I didn’t see anyone, although I wasn’t sure if it was possible to ever go anywhere and successfully get past Andie.

  I wonder how the murderer did it?

  When I was sure no one was looking, I high-tailed it of the house and ran to my car and hopped in, only stopping to buckle the seatbelt after I had driven down the street.

  I got back to the Roundabout Campground and found all was quiet. No fire or emergency going on that could have caused Swan to call me with such alarm. It seemed to have a few more guests than it had just the day before when I was there, I could tell by the number of cars parked in the lot. I couldn’t even get my same spot. Luckily, I didn’t have the house attached and could pull up right next to Swan’s house.

  I knocked on the door to Swan and Ethan’s cabin, but no one answered. I turned from side to side trying to decide where I should go to look for Swan, or maybe Ethan. Swan said he wasn’t there, but he might have just been around the grounds.

  Why would Swan call and then disappear?

  Then I turned back and stared at the door.

  I didn’t know what to do, but before I could make a decision, Swan opened the door only wide enough to stick her head through, then peeked about. She looked from side-to-side and back again before she said anything to me. Then she whispered, “You didn’t bring the house with you, did you?”

  “No,” I said hesitantly. “Why?”

  “Come in,” she said and pulled me through the small opening. “Hurry.”

  “OMG,” I said jerking to a stop. “What is wrong with you?”

  “This is just not good for our business,” she said walking toward the back of the house toward the kitchen.

  “What?” I asked following her.

  “Blu James’ death.”

  “You heard about that?” I asked surprised. She had only died a few hours before.

  “Of course I did,” she said pointing toward a kitchen chair for me to take a seat. “Blu was famous around these parts.” She plopped down on a chair across from me and cupped her hands around a coffee mug that set on the table.

  “Famous? Why?” I asked.

  “The Merry Stampede.”

  “The what?”

  “I know you’ve seen their signs all over the place.”

  “If I did, I guess I didn’t pay any attention to them,” I said. “So what is the Merry Stampede?”

  “A Wild West show.”

  “Wild West?”

  “You know like the Annie Oakley Buffalo Bill kind of show?” she said.

  “Oh,” I said, my interest piqued. “I didn’t know people still put on those kinds of shows. I bet that would be fun to see.”

  “Probably not without Blu.” Swan let out a long sigh. “She made the show.”

  “You know, I still don’t understand why you were so upset with her this afternoon,” I said. “It was my house that she was trying to see.”

  “And my husband she was flirting with,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said. I co
cked my head to the side and tried to remember what had been said between Ethan and the blue eyed girl. I didn’t remember anything that seemed flirtatious to me. “I don’t remember flirting.”

  “You had to be able to read between the lines,” she said.

  I nodded just to placate Swan. Still unable to make out anything significant between the two of them.

  “Where is Ethan?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. He left right after you. Hasn’t been back since.”

  “He didn’t say where he was going?”

  “Nope. Got in the car and drove off. I guess mad at me for being mad at him.” She sniffed and held her head up his. “Childish if you ask me.”

  I grimaced. I did think the whole thing was puerile, especially how she acted although I’d never say that to her. But I also knew that people in love act crazy. I’d seen a lot of that in L.A.

  “When do expect him back?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care,” she said. “And that’s not why I asked you over.”

  “Why did you want me to come over?” I asked.

  “I told you. Blu’s death.”

  “Oh. Right.” I frowned. “So how is it that her death is affecting you?” I asked. “What do you have to do with it?”

  “I don’t have anything to do with it, but after what happened earlier today, people will think I do.”

  “What happened earlier today that would make people think that?” I asked.

  “Oh Nixie!” Swan said and slid her chair back making a screeching noise across the floor. She swiped her cup off the table, went over to the sink and dumped its contents into the sink. Then she poured coffee from the automated brewer into it.

  I waited for her to say something else, but there was nothing from her. I guess I was supposed to know the answer to my question.

  Swan came back to the table and sat down. She picked up the creamer and poured it into her cup, stirring it with her spoon at the same time, until her dark brew became almost blond.