This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead (A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Book 3) (Willow Crier Cozy Mysteries)

by Lilly York

  This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead

  A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery

  Book 3

  Lilly York

  ©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…

  LillyYork.com

  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 – Coming Soon)

  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

  Chapter 20

  Willow’s Lemon Bars

  Willow’s Layered Brownies

  Willow’s Chicken Enchiladas

  Willow’s Marinade for grilled chicken

  Please enjoy this excerpt from ‘Southern Fried Son of a Gun’, Book 4 of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series

  Author Bio

  A Yankee’s Guide to Southern Phrases

  Also by Lilly York

  Chapter 1

  Willow woke to a crash and sat straight up. The dog was whining and pressed up against her. “Some guard dog you are.” She heard the little pings of water hitting her bedroom window. The next rumble of thunder gave her an excellent reason to snuggle deeper down in her covers and keep her eyes closed. She loved sleeping to the sound of rain. In her opinion, there was no better sleeping conditions. She pat the dog’s head. “It’s just thunder, Clover. Nothing to worry about.”

  She was in that place, in-between consciousness and dreamland when a silent alarm started ringing in her head. It grew louder and as hard as she tried to shut the alarm off, it wouldn’t go away. It was an alarm of concern, of something she was forgetting and needed to address.

  Her eyes opened and she left the warmth of her cocoon and stood by her bedroom window. “It’s raining. So what?” She asked out loud.

  Then it hit her. The BBQ cook off. It was rain or shine.

  Clover was whining at her feet. “All right, girl. I’ll let you out.” She opened the back door and the dog hung out on the patio, looking frightened. “Clover, go on, go potty.” Clover just stared at her. “Oh good grief. Are you kidding me?” She ran out into the back yard with the dog. “Now go potty! Why do both of us have to get wet?” Clover did her thing then ran for the door.

  Willow toweled both of them off on the patio then made her way inside. Everything had been packed up the night before, well, except her duffle bag. She still had a few things to stuff in there. Now, she would need ponchos and a few umbrellas. The show must go on.

  A few minutes later Embry padded through her front door, complaining as she did so. “I don’t know why I had to drive all the way out here in the rain when I just have to turn around and go back.”

  “To help pack the truck.”

  She grumbled, then asked, “Mom, did you grab the hats I bought?”

  “Already got ‘em. They’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen.” Willow popped her head out of the bedroom door with her hat already perched on her head. The pink hats with a pig’s face and piggy ears were perfect for their first bbq cook off. “I’m almost ready. Has Steve shown up yet?”

  “He just pulled in. Looks like he has the smoker and the grill in the back of his truck. Should I have him put the coolers in there too?”

  “Yeah, that’ll work.” Willow zipped up her duffle bag and set it by the front door. “I think that’s it.”

  She watched as Steve hoisted the heavy cooler into the back of his truck bed. He had a small pull behind camper hooked up for Willow and Embry to use. He said he would be fine in the bench seat of his truck.

  Willow was excited. This was her first bbq cook off. It was the real deal. She had all four required meats in the cooler; brisket, butt, ribs, and chicken.

  She had read all about last year’s winner, in fact, the team that won last year had won the past five years straight. They were certainly the team to beat. She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking she could win this year, but, participating was the first step toward eventually winning. Maybe, just maybe, the champions would agree to mentor her. She could only hope.

  She walked out and handed Steve his hat.

  “Pink, huh?”

  She grinned. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Of course not.” He grinned. “Real men wear pink.” He placed the hat on his head and oinked in her direction. “Do you have more that needs loading?”

  “Nope, I think this about does it.” She tossed her duffle bag into the back of her Jeep. “Everyone ready?”

  The Three Little Pigs caravan pulled into the park just after noon. Willow hopped out of her Jeep and opened an umbrella as she landed then told Steve she was going to check in and figure out where they were supposed to set up.

  She returned with a map, and a few minutes later the three of them were busy setting up. Getting wet in the process.

  Willow looked around the park, totally in her element. The smell of smoking meat was driving her crazy. Her stomach rumbled. She decided to take a quick walk and meet a few of the other participants. She wandered from camp to camp, introducing herself and pointing back toward her own camp, telling people to stop by anytime.

  Almost everyone was friendly and welcoming. Some were even helpful, giving tips for her first bbq competition.

  Her feet made squishing sounds with each step she took. Her rain soaked tennis shoes were going to be useless. The only other shoes she brought was a pair of flip flops. She leaned up against a big tree and proceeded to kick them off. Angry voices carried as the rain reduced to a drizzle.

  “Bridget, I told you to stop talking to him. You’re flirting and I won’t have it.”

  “Dean, you don’t own me. There’s no ring on this finger.”

  “Own you? Yeah, I do and you know it. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

  She heard the unmistakable sound of a slap followed by Bridget angrily saying, “You’re such a p
ig, do you know that?”

  She saw the back side of Bridget as she stomped back to her camp. She peeked around the other side of the tree to find Dean still cradling his cheek. He started after her. Neither of them noticed Willow.

  When Willow returned to camp, she hung her tennis shoes up to dry inside the camper and slipped on her flip flops. The smoker was ready to roll so she prepared her brisket and butt with her seasonings and secured them in the smoker.

  “Well, for now, that’s that. Anyone want to get a bite to eat? We’ll need to take turns babysitting.”

  Embry yawned. “Why don’t you two run and get something. Bring me back a sandwich. I’m going to take a nap so I’ll be ready for my shift.” She held up her phone. “I’ll set my alarm. No worries.”

  Embry crawled in to the readied camper and left Willow and Steve standing in the rain.

  Steve watched the door shut firmly behind her. “Well, I guess she has it all figured out.”

  Willow smiled. “She usually does.”

  Steve and Willow sat down under a shelter with plates of pulled pork sandwiches, potato salad, and baked beans.

  “This rain is giving me the chills.” She zipped up her sweat shirt. A voice coming from the table next to theirs captured her attention.

  She lowered her voice and told Steve what she had heard earlier when she was out walking.

  “Hey, we aren’t going to have any trouble this weekend. Not with our equipment, not with our neighbors, and certainly not with a pig. I’m off duty. So are you.”

  She distractedly nodded in agreement. “Do you think that young man she is talking to is the man Dean warned her off from?”

  “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

  “Yes, I did. I was just wondering is all. I can wonder, can’t I?”

  Steve shook his head. “No, you are banned from wondering. You cannot wonder until you arrive home tomorrow evening.”

  She grimaced then took a bite of her sandwich.

  Early the next morning, Willow crawled out of her bunk and stretched. She smelled coffee. Someone somewhere already had the stuff brewing. It was still dark out. She listened intently. She heard a few hushed voices, a dog barking, a jet ascending, but she didn’t hear the pitter patter of rain. She felt the inside of her shoes. Still damp. She had 10 minutes until her turn with the smoker. She had to find a bathroom and coffee. And she had to hurry if she didn’t want Embry upset with her. The girl was downright ornery when she was tired. Hunger made things 10 times worse.

  Willow was nearly on top of Dean’s camp when a rather behemoth of a man erupted. “I trusted him to keep this thing going. It was his only job. It’s not even hot anymore.” He turned on the spotlights he had set up around his very large smoker and gathered enough supplies to hopefully get his smoker up and running again. He opened it just as Willow was close enough to hear a string of expletives pour out of the man’s mouth. He slammed it shut and stepped back as though his eyebrows, nose hairs, and chest hairs had all ignited. His smooth bald head was gleaming in the moonlight. The moonlight in direct competition with the startled whites of the man’s eyes.

  He began speaking in stuttered syllables. Willow stepped closer, trying to understand what the man was saying. He kept pointing to the smoker. His eyes danced back and forth between her and the closed unit. She finally had enough with the foreign tourist act and opened the smoker. She stared for a brief moment. Inside was a man, positioned with all fours bent, an apple in his mouth, and slowly rotating on the rotisserie. He’d been tied, not skewered. Thankfully.

  “Oh goodness. It’s the pig!”

  Chapter 2

  Willow was getting awfully close to dancing. No one wanted to see a woman in her 40’s dance. At least not in the way she was dancing. A small crowd was gathering so she found the big bald guy and let him know she’d be back.

  The entire time Willow wiggled toward the bathroom, she found herself thinking about Mr. Pig in the smoker. She chastised herself. Dean. She would have to start calling him by his name. She doubted calling a dead man Mr. Pig was respectful. Even if his deserving it was questionable.

  She did her business, with no leaks mind you, and hurried back to the scene of the crime. Steve was already examining the scene when she approached.

  “Willow, there you are. I thought you’d be smack dab in the middle of…” He was interrupted by the big bald guy vying for Willow’s attention.

  “Oh good, you’re back. I need you to give your, er…” He looked to Steve, knowing Steve already flashed his badge. “…statement to the other police.”

  Willow shrugged her shoulders at Steve then followed the guy to the local police officers who were already on the scene.

  Steve followed close behind, whispering to her as they walked. “Why do you need to give your statement?”

  “Because I was walking by the camp when he opened the smoker and found the body. I saw the whole thing.”

  He rolled his eyes and looked heavenward. “Of course she did.”

  “If the bathroom in the trailer worked, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “Oh sure, blame it on the bathroom.”

  She laughed. “I’m not blaming it on the bathroom, I’m blaming it on you.”

  Tired of calling the big bald guy, Big Bald Guy, she asked “What is your name?”

  He stuck out his hand. “Preston Mosely. Nice to make your acquaintance, Ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Preston. Although I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.” She turned her attention back to Steve. “Now, I was walking by Mr. Mosely’s camp…”

  “Ma’am, call me, Preston.”

  She corrected herself. “I was walking by Preston’s camp when he noticed his smoker was no longer smoking. He opened it up and jumped back. He was so upset, I decided to find out what had caused this big burly man to jump like a jack rabbit and that is when I found Dean, all propped up like a pig on a spit, apple in his mouth, the whole works. I called 911 and then had to hurry to the bathroom.” She gave him a look. “I was just coming back from that trip when I ran into you. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.” She added for good measure. “And it’s all I’m gonna have too. I have chicken and ribs that need tending back at our own camp. I can’t be attaching myself to some murder case. Not again.”

  With that, she sat down at the picnic table to give her statement to the detective. She had no choice but to tell him about the argument she’d heard earlier between Dean and Bridget. Besides being present when the body was found, she really didn’t think she had been much help.

  Willow started back for her camp. The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten up. She was staring at the glowing horizon when she suddenly found herself face to face with Preston.

  “Well, hello again.”

  He grinned. “Hello, Ma’am. Thank you for talking to the police. Dean may have been a bit of a trouble maker, but he was my nephew and I loved him. This is gonna kill my sister.” He shook his head. “Would someone really go to these lengths to keep us from winning the contest again?”

  Willow somehow doubted Preston sought her out to thank her. His grin seemed permanently glued to his face.

  “It’s hard to say what people will do. Almost anything it seems when they want something bad enough.”

  “I tell you the first people the cops should look at. The people who win the grand prize. They did it. I know it.” He nodded then added. “Looks like I’m not needed at my camp now.” He had the decency to turn a slight shade of pink. “I could help at yours, if you’d like. I did win the championship last year, in fact, five years running. You never know. We could be quite the team.” He narrowed his eyes just a bit and the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly upward.

  Willow opened her mouth then closed it, then repeated. Just as she formulated a reply, Steve jogged up next to her.

  “Oh, hey, Preston, right?”

  Steve’s voice sounded friendly. His face however…�
��The police are looking for you.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.” He turned to Willow. “And that offer still stands. I’ll stop by your camp after I finish up.”

  Steve watched as Preston thundered away. “What was all that about? I think our competitor has a crush on you.”

  This time she was the one turning red. “Oh, he just volunteered to join our team, or at least to give us some help since he no longer has a team of his own.”

  “Did you agree?”

  “No, not without talking to the rest of my team.” She grinned. “You know, it might not be a bad idea to get some ideas from last year’s winner. I had been hoping to get the winning team to mentor us. Looks like we could have just that.”

  He made some unintelligible grunt then changed the subject. “Did you happen to notice those strange marks on the victims face? And the lack of blood in the smoker?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. It looks like someone was stomping on his face and he definitely bled out somewhere besides that smoker.” She glanced around the park. “It’s got to be around here somewhere. I see the police are searching the park. I guess they are thinking along those same lines.” Police officers were spread out over the park grounds, looking for the original crime scene.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave the investigation alone.”

  She chose to ignore him. “And what do you think made those distinctive marks on his face? Those aren’t from a normal shoe and certainly not a bare foot.”

  Steve grinned. No way would she be able to just leave this thing alone. “I don’t know. I think we need to know more about our victim. Thankfully the local police are accepting my help. I’ll see what I can find out. Do you think you and Embry can handle getting the chicken and ribs on without me?”