by Lilly York
Southern Fried Son of a Gun
A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery
Book 4
Lilly York
Southern Fried Son of a Gun
©2016 by Lilly York
lillyyork.com
All rights reserved.
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author or publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
Cover Design: Jonna Feavel
40daygraphics.com
Illustrations: Ben Gerhards
Interior Layout: Daniel Mawhinney
40daypublishing.com
Published by: Wide Awake Books
wideawakebooks.com
Also available in print publication
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, to factual events or to businesses is coincidental and unintentional.
To stay informed on the whereabouts and goings-on of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Characters as well as upcoming releases, recipes and maybe a clue or two, join Lilly’s e-mail club by going to…
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Also by Lilly York
The Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series
Chili to Die For (Book 1)
I Scream, You Scream (Book 2)
This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead (Book 3)
Southern Fried Son of a Gun (Book 4)
Bobbing for One Bad Apple
(Book 5, soon to be released)
The Brother Bay Cozy Mystery Series
In-Laws and Out-Laws
(Book 1, soon to be released)
CONTENTS
Also by Lilly York
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
Willow’s Broccoli Salad
Willow’s Chicken Pot Pie
Willow’s Sausage Gravy
Steve’s French Dip
Willow’s Chocolate Chip Cookies
Willow’s Fried Chicken
Please enjoy this excerpt from ‘Bobbing for One Bad Apple’, Book 5 of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series
Please enjoy this excerpt from ‘In-Laws and Out-Laws’, Book 1 of the Brother Bay Cozy Mystery Series
A Yankee’s Guide to Southern Phrases
Author Bio
Chapter 1
The heat-seeking missile sat poised, ready to fire. She took aim. The target locked. She fired. The explosion rocked the intersection…
“Mom? Hello, earth to mom.”
Willow startled out of her daydream. “What?”
“What were you just doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Mom, answer the question.”
She pointed to the red pickup truck in front of them. “I just blew him up.”
Embry raised her eyebrows. “A little extreme, don’t you think?”
“I tried to be nice and let him through. Did he go through? No. He cut.”
“He cut? Isn’t that a little middle school?”
Willow guffawed. “It’s also perimenopausal. Let’s not leave that out.” She accelerated. “I was in line first. I was being nice and didn’t want to block the intersection so I gave him room to pass through. Did he? No. Instead he cut in line. He didn’t even acknowledge me. He had to go.”
Embry shook her head. “Mom, it was McDonald’s drive through. I’m not sure you should have a gun. It might not be the wisest decision.”
Willow patted her purse. “Oh, Honey, it’s fine. Just because I want to rid the world of all the idiots doesn’t mean I will.”
Willow pulled into the parking space in front of a rather drab, dirty brown building. “Are you ready?”
Her gun club was meeting for a potluck. The concealed carry class Steve signed her up for got along so well they had decided to get together socially. Willow had decided food was the one way to get Embry to the club.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. I guess.” Embry opened her door. “Do I have to do this?”
“Yes. You do.” She paused. “Well, I guess you don’t— but if you ever want me to make homemade chicken potpie again you will.”
“Mom, that’s not fair.”
“I don’t play fair. Never claimed to either.” Willow led the way to the front door and held it open for her daughter, then followed her in. The entry was a mini store and had glass cases with a few guns and some ammo. “You work downtown, sometimes late at night. I’ve seen the kind of people who are wandering around at that time of night. I’ll feel better knowing you can protect yourself.”
A deep southern voice ended their conversation.
“Willow, hey, how you doin’, girl?” The elderly man looked to Embry. “Don’t tell me. She’s your sister, right?”
Willow grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Clancy, this is my daughter, Embry. Embry, meet Clancy.” She addressed Embry. “Clancy is a war hero.”
“Girl, don’t be goin’ on about me. She don’ wantta be hearin’ no old war stories. She got better things to do than that.”
Willow frowned. “Clancy, you should be proud of what you did. Not everyone would risk their own safety to help others. Especially if they weren’t exactly friendly toward you.”
He waved her off. “Nah, anybody would have helped. I’m nothin’ special.”
He went behind the counter and glanced at his watch. “You’re a bit early for the potluck. What can I help you two ladies with today?”
Willow loved Clancy’s range. It wasn’t fancy like the others in town. It was a little off the beaten path and if you wanted a cup of coffee or a soda, your only choices were the vending machine or the crusty pot Clancy kept on the counter. Granted, the coffee would put hair on your chest but once you got used to it, it was almost like coming home. She smiled. “You got me. My dish is in the cooler in the Jeep. Since I was coming anyway, I thought I’d get some practice time in.” She motioned to Embry. “She’s never shot a gun. I want her to be able to protect herself. So, I’d like two lanes. And a rental for Embry.”
Clancy nodded. “You got it.” He pulled out a Smith & Wesson revolver and some ammo. “This should do the trick. Jason, can you give this young lady a rundown on the 1911?”
“Sure Mr. C.” Jason put his duster behind the counter. “Which lane did you assign to her?”
“I put ‘em in eight and nine. Maybe you can use the classroom and go over the rules and the gun.”
Jason nodded, took the gun and the ammo, and walked away.
Embry gave her mom a look then shrugged and followed the young man with the buzz cut through a hallway and into a small classroom. Willow entered right behind them. A refresher course wouldn’t hurt, nor would learning about another weapon.
A half hour later, Jason led both women to their lanes and got them each set up with a target. “OK, why don’t you give it a go and I’ll stay here and help you out for a bit.”
Embry loaded the
weapon as she had been instructed, then took aim and fired. She looked to Jason for input. He simply nodded so she fired again.
This time he interjected. “You need to keep both eyes open.”
She nodded then fired again, making sure both eyes were fully open.
Jason motioned for her to set her weapon down and he brought the target forward. Two shots were on the paper but to the right of the silhouette. One was in the chest. “See what happens when you are aware of your target? You hit it.” He sent a clean target out. “Let’s try it again.”
She spent her round of ammunition and then drew in the target. Every shot was a hit. Not all were kill shots, but she did have a couple. As much as she didn’t want to like firing a weapon, she had to admit, it felt good. Jason seemed impressed as well.
“You’re good at this. How long have you been target shooting?”
“This is my first time.”
“You’re kidding? I never would have guessed.” After watching her load her weapon, he excused himself. “If you need anything just give me a yell.”
Willow watched as Embry put her earplugs in and joined her in warding off various criminals. All put out of their misery, of course. She knew her daughter would be a natural. It would have to run in the family.
Shortly before their time ran out on the lanes, the lights flickered. Willow glanced around, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary so she finished off her round and cleaned her gun as she waited for Embry to do the same.
“Well, what did you think?”
Embry’s face lit up. “I loved it. I didn’t think I would, but I did.”
Willow laughed. “I knew you would.”
Together they turned in Embry’s weapon to Jason. “Clancy taking a break? He’s joining us for the potluck, right?”
“Yeah. He’s out back taking a smoke break.” He rolled his eyes. “He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Willow holstered her gun and went for her cooler. She made a broccoli salad and chocolate chip cookies. She also picked up a couple of gallons of sweet tea.
Birdie pulled into the parking spot next to Willow’s Jeep. Willow waved but Birdie didn’t appear to see her.
Birdie drank copious amounts of caffeine. She flitted from one thing to another. Willow wasn’t sure how it was possible for her to hold a gun still enough to hit any target, let alone one about to cause her physical harm. Willow watched as she popped out of her boxy Scion and started for the building. Suddenly, she turned around.
“Willow, so sorry. Didn’t see you there.”
She approached Willow and took the two gallons of tea from her, then turned for the building. Willow lifted the cooler and tried to catch up, to no avail, of course. By the time Willow entered the classroom everyone was thanking Birdie for remembering to bring something to drink. The woman continued on as if she didn’t hear them. She neither accepted their thanks, nor denied she brought the sweet drink. Willow had gotten used to her demeanor. Classic Birdie. Today, Willow chose to ignore it. She’d already blown up one vehicle and taken out an army of bad guys. The range was great for working off aggression. Birdie was safe—for today.
Willow placed her salad and cookies on the conference table. She noticed Embry was still talking with Jason and wondered what Marshall would think of that. “You two seem to have a lot to talk about.”
Embry blushed. “Jason was telling me about Clancy’s time in Vietnam.”
So maybe everything is all right with Marshall then, good. I really like that young man. “Interesting, huh?”
“I’m not sure interesting is the right word. Makes me want to smack somebody.”
Willow laughed. “You better be careful. Next thing you know, you’ll be blowing up trucks in intersections.” She looked around. “Clancy’s been gone a long time. Longer than normal. I wonder if he’s OK.”
Jason scoped out the room. “I’ll go look out front. Maybe he had a customer come in.”
More of her classmates filed into the room. Someone made fried chicken. Willow could smell it and looked down at her growling stomach. “Traitor.” She had every intention to lose a few pounds. Funny how being in a new relationship did that to a girl.
She selected a breast from the glass pan and added her broccoli salad with a helping of fruit to her plate. She added a small portion of what looked to be homemade macaroni and cheese. The creamy concoction was a downfall of hers. She had many. Her hips didn’t lie. She sat down next to
Embry who happened to choose the table Birdie was at then took a bite of the pasta. “Eww…this has olives in it! Who does that?” She grabbed a napkin out of Embry’s hand and spit the nasty mixture into it. “Oh, that was terrible. I hate olives.”
Birdie exclaimed, “I didn’t make it with you in mind! I love olives. I wanted to try something different.” She stood up and moved to another table, obviously offended.
Willow looked at Embry. “How was I supposed to know?” She took a bite of her broccoli salad to remove the taste of olives from her mouth. She loathed olives. Just as she picked up her chicken, Jason appeared looking as if he was going to be sick.
“Jason, what’s wrong?” Willow scanned the room. “Where’s Clancy?”
He nodded, then turned. Willow quickly followed him outside and around the building. She was thankful she hadn’t taken a bite. If she had, she would be losing it.
A bare electrical wire, running from the box on the back of the building and partially buried was protruding from the ground in the overgrown weeds. Clancy was unmoving, lying on the ground. Wires just don’t all the sudden start popping out of the ground. No way could it have been an accident. The means of death was obvious: someone fried their host.
Clancy Cobb was electrocuted.
Chapter 2
Willow’s mouth hung open. The smell wasn’t pleasant. Neither was the vision. Some things just can’t be unseen.
Willow tried to keep Embry from approaching. She was unsuccessful.
Embry tossed her cookies. Literally. She’d downed several of her mom’s homemade chocolate chip cookies and wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to eat them again, even if they were the best cookies she’d ever eaten.
Neither Embry, Jason, nor Willow noticed the stranger standing next to the dead body until the police arrived and led them all from the scene. All four of them were waiting to be questioned in the break room. The rest of the party goers were being held in the conference room, with the food. Not that Willow could even think of eating. Well, maybe a little—but just a little, no more.
Pacing around the small table the others were sitting at, Willow finally noticed the tall, well dressed elderly gentleman. She stopped before him. Where in the world did he come from?
Never one to mince words she asked, “Who are you?”
He gave her a half smile. “I’ve never blended in before. Are you just taking notice of me?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry. With everything…”
He extended his hand. “No worries. I understand perfectly. I’m Abel White. Betcha didn’t see that comin’ now did ya?” He held up his dark ebony hand and laughed at his own joke. “I served with Clancy in the war. We’ve been friends a long time.”
Willow appraised him while slowly nodding. He looked and sounded just like a southern gentleman. She deemed him good people and extended her own pale hand. “I’m Willow. Nice to meet you, Abel. Although it could have been under better circumstances.”
“I have to agree with you there. I’ll miss the old guy.”
“So, what were you doing here?”
For this he grinned. “Clancy invited me. He makes the best fried chicken you ever did taste. I don’t know what he does to it, but it sure is good. He could have opened a chicken restaurant and gave the Colonel a run for his money.” He rubbed his stomach. “I sure hope there’s a piece left. I don’t want my last bite to be my last memory.”
Embry’s mouth hung open. “Did he make the fried chicken for the potluck? I
got one bite before I went outside. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
“Yep. It’ll do that to you.”
The door opened and a police officer led a stunning young woman to Abel. “Grandpa, are you OK?”
He pulled her close. “I’m just fine. Don’t you worry about me.”
“Willow, meet my granddaughter, Jordina. Jordina, this is Willow.” He made introductions then quieted down for the police officer.
“Mr. White. The detective is ready for you. Do you want to follow me?”
Jordina gave her grandfather a hug, then sat down at the table and waited. Willow sat down next to her and placed her hand on the young lady’s arm. The girl couldn’t have been more than 19—20 at the most. She was tall, lithe—definitely model material. “It’s going to be OK. This is just procedure. He’ll be out in a few minutes.” Willow breathed in deeply. Whatever perfume Jordina was wearing was fantastic. Original. She wanted to ask what perfume it was but didn’t think this was the appropriate time.
Jordina’s brow furrowed. “How can you be so sure?”
“Well, I hate to admit it but I’ve been through this before. The police always question whoever was around. It’s best we tell them everything we noticed—no matter how insignificant it might seem—because this is when we remember the most. And our minds haven’t had a chance to change any details on us yet.”
Jordina started crying.
“Honey, your grandpa will be out here eating chicken before you know it. Well, if those buzzards in the other room haven’t eaten it all.”
She wiped her tears and tried to smile. Even in tears she was beautiful.
Willow pulled a tissue out of her purse. “Here you go.”
She delicately dabbed the tears without messing up her makeup. She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s all gonna be OK. You’ll see.”
