by Tonya Kappes
Praise for the Kenni Lowry Mystery Series
“Fabulous fun and fantastic fried food! Kappes nails small town mystery with another must-read hit. (Also, I want to live in Cottonwood, KY.) Don’t miss this one!”
– Darynda Jones,
New York Times Bestselling Author of The Dirt on Ninth Grave
“Packed with clever plot twists, entertaining characters, and plenty of red herrings! Fixin’ To Die is a rollicking, delightful, down-home mystery.”
– Ann Charles,
USA Today Bestselling Author of the Deadwood Mystery Series
“Southern and side-splitting funny! Fixin’ To Die has captivating characters, nosy neighbors, and is served up with a ghost and a side of murder.”
– Duffy Brown,
Author of the Consignment Shop Mysteries
“This story offers up a small touch of paranormal activity that makes for a fun read…A definite “5-star,” this is a great mystery that doesn’t give up the culprit until the last few pages.”
– Suspense Magazine
“A Southern-fried mystery with a twist that’ll leave you positively breathless.”
– Susan M. Boyer,
USA Today Bestselling Author of Lowcountry Book Club
“A wonderful series filled with adventure, a ghost, and of course some romance. This is a hard book to put down.”
– Cozy Mystery Book Reviews
“Kappes captures the charm and quirky characters of small-town Kentucky in her new mystery…a charming, funny story with exaggerated characters. The dialect-filled quirky sayings and comments bring those characters to life.”
– Lesa’s Book Critiques
“With a fantastic cast of characters and a story filled with humor and murder you won’t be able to put it down.”
– Shelley’s Book Case
“Funny and lively...Before you blink your three chapters down and your trying to peak ahead to see what happens next. Fast moving with great characters that you wish were real so that you might be able to visit with them more often.”
– The Reading Room
“Kappes is an incredible author who weaves fabulous stories…I can’t wait to see what she comes up next in this series.”
– Community Bookstop
“I am totally hooked. The people of Cottonwood feel like dear friends, and I enjoy reading about the latest happenings…The story is well-told, with plenty of action and suspense, along with just enough humor to take the edge off.”
– Book Babble
The Kenni Lowry Mystery Series
by Tonya Kappes
FIXIN’ TO DIE (#1)
SOUTHERN FRIED (#2)
AX TO GRIND (#3)
SIX FEET UNDER (#4)
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Copyright
AX TO GRIND
A Kenni Lowry Mystery
Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection
First Edition | September 2017
Henery Press, LLC
www.henerypress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, LLC, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2017 by Tonya Kappes
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Trade Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-247-4
Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-248-1
Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-249-8
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-250-4
Printed in the United States of America
Jack Keller—Always reach for that dream.
Chapter One
“What exactly are we looking for again?” Finn asked, rubbing his hand through his hair. He stood in the corner of the bedroom of Hattie Hankle with a wooden Louisville Slugger in his hand, his face clouded with uneasiness.
“Just tap the bat on the floor a few times,” I said, my head stuck up under Hattie’s bed, only to find what looked to be at least a hundred crumpled-up plastic grocery store bags, rolls of paper towels, and toilet paper that filled every single inch of space under the bed’s box spring.
“Get, you critter,” I said a little louder than normal so Hattie could hear me from the other side of the shut door.
“Get away,” Finn repeated, tapping the bat on the hardwood floor a few times. “Seriously, what kind of critter again?” His eyebrows rose.
I tugged the bed skirt down and stood up, brushing the front of my sheriff’s uniform off in case I’d gotten some dust bunnies on me.
“Critters.” I smiled. “You haven’t gotten to experience a Hattie Hankle call.”
I sat on the edge of Hattie’s bed and patted my hand on the flowered quilt that lay on the mattress. Finn sat next to me. Living in a small town like Cottonwood, Kentucky, there were many calls that probably weren’t necessary for the sheriff to respond to, but the citizens pulled their weight around our small town and that was one thing that made us special.
“Hattie lives here in the bed and breakfast. She doesn’t have any family, and she can’t live on her own. She has some special needs. My poppa always said Hattie would always be childlike, which wasn’t a bad thing, because she would never know the evils of the world. She’s been living in the Inn as far back as I can remember. She thinks there are critters running around her room.” I grinned. “I know it sounds crazy, but she calls dispatch and I come here and pretend to catch them or tell her I’ve run them off. It satisfies her for a couple of months.”
“A couple of months?” Finn’s jaw dropped along with his shoulders.
“Every time it’s something different. Plus, I feel a little bad for her, and it’s nice to sit and chat for a while.” I shrugged and stood up. “She doesn’t get much company, I don’t think. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
Meaning the little bit of idle gossip that generally circulated during my weekly girl’s night out Euchre game.
Even though Finn had been a deputy in my department for a couple of months and he’d mostly gotten used to the small-town life here in Cottonwood, it was still entertaining to watch his reactions to some of our more colorful citizens.
“Did you get it?” Hattie asked from the other side of the bedroom door. “Is there a lot of blood?”
I walked over to the door and jerked it open. The bottom of the long window curtain with the same flower pattern as the quilt swung out and rested in a billowy cloud of fabric on the floor.
“Well?” Hattie tilted her head to one side to listen. Her gray hair, styled like a football helmet, didn’t move—a sure sign she’d been to her weekly hair appointment down at Tiny Tina’s, Cottonwood’s only salon and full-service spa. And by full-service, I meant massages with stones that came right out of the Kentucky River that ran along our small town. Somehow Tiny Tina’s passed those rocks off as fancy.
“The critter is all taken care of,” I said, leaning in close to her ear when I noticed she wasn’t wearing her hearing aids. “Where are your hearing aids?”
> “My ears?” She jerked around and took a few shaky steps into the small living area, where she had a matching taupe loveseat and couch. The room opened up into a small kitchenette with a round table that had two chairs across from each other. The table was set as though she were about to have company, but that was what most of the tables in Cottonwood looked like. It was the proper thing to do in the South.
Of course, my table wasn’t. Instead it was piled high with old community coupon papers and junk mail. Not Hattie. There wasn’t a thing out of place. Every time I’d come to visit her, it was spotless.
Slowly Hattie’s head turned toward me. Her eyes squinted in a furtive manner. “I bet that critter took them.”
“I’ll be sure to let Darby know,” I said to ease her mind. Darby Gray owns The Inn and has always been the one I knew of that took good care of Hattie.
I glanced back at Finn, who was still sitting on Hattie’s bed as if he were trying to process what he’d just witnessed.
No doubt his mind was running around itself wondering what on Earth he’d gotten himself into, probably having second thoughts about recently taking the deputy sheriff’s position.
“Did you get a look at that thing?” Hattie let go of her cane and lifted her hands in the air, forming them into claws. “Big claw hands and big teeth.” She chomped her teeth together. “Did it hiss at you?”
“I don’t know,” I said, turning back to Finn. I smiled. “Officer Vincent was the one who caught it and threw it out the window. Did it hiss?” I teased Finn.
“Like a snake,” he said, playing along as he walked over to us.
That was one thing that I liked about getting to know Finn, not only through our job but also on a personal level. He could go with the flow, and he was quick and witty. All qualities that made him so appealing.
“I’m glad you got you a new sidekick,” Hattie said, pointing her bony finger at Finn. “You take over Lonnie’s job?”
I was a little surprised Hattie remembered that Lonnie Lemar had retired as my sheriff’s deputy.
“Yes, ma’am.” Finn nodded and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’m happy to be here in Cottonwood.”
“Who’s your kin?” She blinked owlishly.
“My who?” Finn asked.
“Your kin folk,” I said, finding it a little disturbing how cute he was when he was confused. “Hattie, you’ll have to excuse Finn. He’s from Chicago. Finn, Hattie wanted to know who you’re related to around here.”
“A northerner, huh?” She nodded. “No wonder.”
“No wonder what?” Finn asked.
“No wonder you’re the talk of the town.” Hattie’s eyes fluttered. “You’re a handsome thing.”
Hattie Hankle might be hard of hearing, but her eyesight was just fine.
As Finn’s face reddened, he shifted and dropped his head. “That’s nice of you to say. Thank you.”
“Aw, Hattie,” I teased. “Who’s going around telling you about our friend Finn here?”
It was fun to aggravate him and put him on the spot.
“Paige told me,” Hattie said, speaking of Paige Lemar, an employee at the bed and breakfast. Hattie nodded with a big grin on her face. She elbowed me. “You might think about this one.”
“Are you ready?” My head jerked up. Hattie Hankle trying to fix me up was my cue that it was time to leave. “It was nice to see you, Hattie.” I took a step toward the door.
“You aren’t staying for a cup of afternoon coffee?” Hattie asked.
“Not today.” There was no way I was going to hang around—even though the sheriff’s department had been quiet for a few months—and listen to Hattie Hankle inform me on what a cute couple Finn Vincent and I would make.
My mama had already mastered that task, and I could barely stand listening to her. And she was my mom.
“Let us know if you have any more problems with those critters.” I opened the door.
Finn followed me, put his hand on the open door, and held it for me.
“And a gentleman at that.” Hattie nodded a few slow times and drew her lips into a tight smile.
“Have a great day.” I stepped out into the hallway of the Inn.
“That was rude,” Finn said with a look of amusement on his face after we’d stepped out into the hall.
“What was rude?” I asked, glancing over Finn’s shoulder to make sure Hattie had shut her door. Sometimes after I left, she’d forget to and then wander around into other people’s rooms at the Inn.
It was part of her childlike ways, but I had a hard time explaining to customers at the Inn when they’d call me because there was an intruder in their hotel room when it was only Hattie. She was harmless.
“You didn’t agree that I was a gentleman,” he joked, pulling the corners of his lips up slightly.
“Ha ha.” I rolled my eyes, barely missing knocking down a guest on our way down the hall.
The smell of paint tickled my nose. The note taped on the wall warned of the freshly painted walls. The new powder blue color went well with the bamboo wood floor. There were six rooms on this floor and two suites on the third floor.
“What about you being the talk of the town?”
“Who is Paige?” he asked.
“Paige Lemar. Lonnie’s wife.” We stopped at the top of the staircase to let a few guests pass us. “She’s the Inn’s housekeeper.”
“You want to go grab a bite to eat?” Finn asked on our way down the staircase to the first floor where the registration was located.
For a split second I thought about it. But there was no way I could cancel my weekly Euchre night with the girls. I’d much rather be spending the time with Finn, even though the conversation would be about work.
I looked into the gathering room in the front of the Inn to see if Darby was in there. She wasn’t. Only a few guests were sitting by the fireplace. Just the sight of the flaming logs made me excited for the best season in Kentucky. Autumn.
Maybe Darby was outside. I wanted to let her know about Hattie’s missing hearing aids.
“I’d love to, but I can’t.” I shrugged off the light fall breeze that sent chills along my arms when it hit my neck after we walked out through the screen door. “Euchre.” I patted my belly. “You know there will be good food there.”
“Let me know if they decide to let guys in.” He winked. I gulped. “Maybe another time. See you in the morning at the ceremony?” he asked.
“Sounds good.” I stood on the top step and watched him head toward his car.
He sucked in a deep breath and, with his chin up in the air, looked around the landscape. The prism of trees that blocked the view of the Kentucky River behind the Inn had painted the landscape in orange, yellow, and red leaves. This was the perfect time of the year in Kentucky. Mid-seventy degrees during the day and mid-fifties at night. The nippy evening air told me fall was in full swing and soon all the trees would paint a beautiful canvas across Cottonwood.
“I love Chicago, don’t get me wrong, but this.” Finn’s arms stretched out in front of him. “This is amazing.”
Both of us stood there enjoying the view with silence between us. It was fun seeing him take in the fall scenery for the first time since he’d moved to Cottonwood.
He waved me off on his way to his Dodge Charger.
I stood on the front porch of the Inn until I saw the taillights of his car round the corner before I turned to go back into the Inn to find to Darby.
“Duke, where did you come from?” I asked my bloodhound, who was lying in a sunny spot on the wood porch floor. I’d dropped him off at home after I’d gotten the critter call from dispatch.
“Where’d you come from?” Kiwi, the Inn’s green macaw mascot, clasped his claws around the wire of the domed bird cage that stood at the end of the porch. His head bobbed up and do
wn. “I came from Beryle’s and couldn’t find the book. Couldn’t find the book. Glad she’s dead.”
Chapter Two
“Stay, Duke,” I instructed my dog, who was too busy sniffing new smells to even greet me. I wanted to make sure he didn’t scare Kiwi before I could question the bird.
He was a great dog—if it weren’t for him taking a bullet for me in the line of duty a few months ago, I wouldn’t be here. Tomorrow the town was going to give him an award. It was a pretty big deal around these parts, and word around the street was that everyone was going to be there. Even Lonnie Lemar, my ex-deputy that had come out of retirement to run against me in the next election.
I glanced around the large porch to see if anyone else was around and might’ve heard Kiwi, but there wasn’t. Pops of white, yellow, pink, lavender, red, and bronze mums were strategically placed around the porch and down the steps. They seemed to frill themselves in the last bit of the day’s sun.
“Hi, Kiwi.” I walked over to greet the bird. “What did you say about someone dead?” I questioned the bird like it was going to tell me.
“Hi, Kiwi,” Kiwi repeated. The bird was good at repeating and I had no idea why on Earth I thought I was going to be able to question him.
“Glad who is dead?” I asked the bird, hoping he’d repeat what I thought I’d heard.
“Hi, Kiwi. Cold out here.” The bird lifted one claw in the air and sent a wave of ruffled feathers up his neck.
“It’s almost too cold out here for you.” I ran my hands up and down my arms to ward off any more goosebumps before I poked my finger through the cage and pet him on his tiny little head. He bobbed up and down with delight.
“There you are.” Mama’s voice floated to me with the breeze.
