Praise for Larissa Reinhart’s Cherry Tucker Mysteries
HIJACK IN ABSTRACT
“The fast-paced plot careens through small-town politics and deadly rivalries, with zany side trips through art-world shenanigans and romantic hijinx. Like front-porch lemonade, Reinhart’s cast of characters offer a perfect balance of tart and sweet.”
– Sophie Littlefield,
Bestselling Author of A Bad Day for Sorry
“Cherry is back–tart-tongued and full of sass. With her paint-stained fingers in every pie, she’s in for a truckload of trouble.”
– J.J. Murphy,
Author of the Algonquin Round Table Mysteries
“Bless her heart. Artist Cherry Tucker just can’t help chasing after justice, even when it lands her up to her eyeballs in Russian gangsters, sexy exes, and treacherous truckers. A rambunctious mystery as Southern as chess pie and every bit as delectable.”
– Jane Sevier,
Author of the Psychic Socialite 1930s Memphis Mysteries
“A true work of art…I didn’t want this book to end! I was so caught up in Cherry’s crazy life, I wanted to just keep reading.”
– Gayle Trent,
Author of Battered to Death
“Reinhart manages to braid a complicated plot into a tight and funny tale...Cozy fans will love this latest Cherry Tucker mystery.”
– Mary Marks,
New York Journal of Books
“Witty, fast paced dialogue sandwiched between vivid descriptions and interesting characters made Hijack in Abstract come to life before my eyes…My recommendation—don’t miss this one!”
– Christine Warner,
Author of Bachelor’s Special
“I love this series! Cheeky, clever, and compelling—keeps me reading way too late. This book has one of the most original—and fun—love triangles you’ll ever come across.”
– Kaye George,
Agatha Nominated Author of the Imogene Duckworthy Mysteries
“Larissa Reinhart has a unique knack of putting her lead character, Cherry Tucker, through a series of obstacles, increasing the pressure until I’m on the edge of my seat... Cherry Tucker mysteries just keep getting better and better. I can’t wait for the next installment!”
– Terri L. Austin,
Author of the Rose Strickland Mystery Series
“Cherry Tucker’s got an artist’s palette of problems, but she handles them better than da Vinci on a deadline. Bust out your gesso and get primed for humor, hijackings, and a handful of hunks!”
– Diane Vallere,
Author of the Style & Error and Mad for Mod Mystery Series
“Reinhart took me on a fun rollercoaster ride. Everyone is a suspect and just when you think you have things figured out, you’re forced to reevaluate your theory and modify your suspect list. I haven’t had this much fun trying to solve a mystery in a while and it sure beats playing a game of Clue any day! Four out of five stars.”
– Literary, etc.
“With a well-plotted storyline, witty banter, a warm and friendly feel and a great supporting cast that surrounds Cherry, this was very enjoyable and I am eager to read the next book in this charmingly appealing series.”
– Dru Ann Love,
Dru’s Book Musings
STILL LIFE IN BRUNSWICK STEW
“Reinhart’s country-fried mystery is as much fun as a ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl at a state fair. Her sleuth wields a paintbrush and unravels clues with equal skill and flair. Readers who like a little small-town charm with their mysteries will enjoy Reinhart’s series.”
— Denise Swanson,
New York Times Bestselling Author of the Scumble River and Devereaux’s Dime Store Mysteries
“Still Life in Brunswick Stew proves beyond doubt that Larissa Reinhart and her delightful amateur sleuth Cherry Tucker will be around to entertain us for many books to come.”
– Lois Winston,
Author of the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series
“Cherry Tucker finds trouble without even looking for it, and plenty of it finds her in Still Life in Brunswick Stew…this mystery keeps you laughing and guessing from the first page to the last. A whole-hearted five stars.”
– Denise Grover Swank,
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
“Reinhart lined up suspects like a pinsetter in a bowling alley, and darned if I could figure out which ones to knock down...Can’t wait to see what Cherry paints herself into next.”
– Donnell Ann Bell,
Bestselling Author of The Past Came Hunting
“The hilariously droll Larissa Reinhart cooks up a quirky and entertaining page-turner! This charming mystery is delightfully Southern, surprisingly edgy, and deliciously unpredictable.”
– Hank Phillippi Ryan,
Agatha, Anthony and Macavity Award-Winning Author
PORTRAIT OF A DEAD GUY
“Portrait of a Dead Guy is an entertaining mystery full of quirky characters and solid plotting…Highly recommended for anyone who likes their mysteries strong and their mint juleps stronger!”
— Jennie Bentley,
New York Times Bestselling Author of Flipped Out
“Reinhart is a truly talented author and this book was one of the best cozy mysteries we reviewed this year…We highly recommend this book to all lovers of mystery books. Our Rating: 4.5 Stars.”
— Mystery Tribune
“The tone of this marvelously cracked book is not unlike Sophie Littlefield’s brilliant A Bad Day for Sorry, as author Reinhart dishes out shovelfuls of ribald humor and mayhem.”
– Betty Webb,
Mystery Scene Magazine
“Larissa Reinhart’s masterfully crafted whodunit, Portrait of a Dead Guy, provides high-octane action with quirky, down-home characters and a trouble-magnet heroine who’ll steal readers’ hearts.”
—Debby Giusti,
Author of The Captain’s Mission and The Colonel’s Daughter
“A fun, fast-paced read and a rollicking start to her Cherry Tucker Mystery Series. If you like your stories southern-fried with a side of romance, this book’s for you!”
— Leslie Tentler,
Author of Midnight Caller
Books in the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
by Larissa Reinhart
Novels
PORTRAIT OF A DEAD GUY (#1)
STILL LIFE IN BRUNSWICK STEW (#2)
HIJACK IN ABSTRACT (#3)
DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE (#4)
(coming Summer 2014)
Novellas
QUICK SKETCH (prequel to PORTRAIT)
(in HEARTACHE MOTEL)
Praise for Larissa Reinhart’s Cherry Tucker Mysteries
Books in the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four<
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Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Reader’s Discussion Guide
About Larissa Reinhart
Henery Press Mystery Books
HIJACK IN ABSTRACT
A Cherry Tucker Mystery
Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection
First Edition
Kindle edition | November 2013
Henery Press
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, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2013 by Larissa Hoffman
Cover illustration by Jessie Porter
Author photograph by Scott Asano
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.
ISBN-13: 978-1-938383-75-5
Printed in the United States of America
To Mom.
Thanks for instilling a love of books within me.
And for letting me borrow yours.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Rick and Ann Walker. Rick, thanks for your service as a Special Agent and for sharing all your great stories!
Thank you to Matt and Palmarin Merges. Matt, your gun knowledge astounds me, and Palmy, your creativity inspires me.
Thank you to my special readers, Gina, Diana, Julie, and Linda. You guys rock! And Bill and Erich, you’re pretty cool, too.
Thanks to Anise Rae for being such a supportive critique partner and friend.
A big thank you to my partner in crime, Terri L. Austin, and her accomplices, LynDee Walker and Gretchen Archer, for their help, support, and silliness. Gigi Pandian, so glad I can stalk you at the same press now.
A huge thank you to my awesome editor, Kendel Flaum, for pushing me to make my stories better and for making Henery Press flourish.
Thanks to all my supporters in Peachtree City, Newnan, Senoia, Grantville, Savannah, and other parts of Georgia, as well as the folks in Illinois, Texas, and North Carolina. Your love and patronage really motivate me.
Thank you to librarians and Friends of the Library everywhere for your dedication to books, authors, and readers, particularly Peachtree City Library, Geneseo Public Library, Watauga County Public Library, and Newnan Carnegie Library.
And finally, a triple-decker, super gigantic thank you to Trey, Soph, & Lu for everything. Especially for letting me wonder aloud about really strange things that would annoy most normal people. And for understanding my lack of interest in vacuuming.
One
There are many places you don’t want to be at zero dark thirty, but I’ve got a personal top three. One is the ER. Second is a police station. The third is your ex-boyfriend’s bedroom.
Thank God Almighty I was not in number three. Stupid does catch me occasionally, but not this night. I was nowhere near an ex-boyfriend’s bedroom.
At two forty-five in the morning, I found myself in number two. The Forks County Sheriff’s Office to be accurate. My cornflower blues were a bit bloodshot and blurry, but my grin matched Shep Peterson’s, who also found himself in a similar location. However, Shep had a drunk tank grin. Mine was more of a self-congratulatory grin, born from knowing that finally someone in Forks County had recognized my accomplishments in the art world. Never mind the phone call that woke me from a dead sleep and near gave me a heart attack. Or that I had to drive my sister’s Firebird because her vehicle was blocking my driveway. Or that I now sat in the junior officers’ room with a cold cup of coffee and had just realized I had forgotten to comb my bed-head designed blond cowlicks in my bleary-eyed haste.
And to put on a bra.
The Forks County Sheriff, Uncle Will, needed my expertise. That’s all that mattered. And I was going to get paid.
Needed me for what was still a bit vague. I hoped nothing needing brushed hair and a bra.
“Wha’cho in fer?” called Shep from two desks over. “You a D and D, too?” He pitched forward in his seat, but righted himself before his arresting officer could shove him back in his chair.
“No drunk and disorderly tonight,” I said. “I’m here in an official capacity. As an artist.”
“Artist? You wanna draw my picture? Wha’s your name, darlin’?”
“Cherry Tucker,” I grinned. “Mr. Shep, you know me. I’m Ed Ballard’s granddaughter. He buys bait from you. I’ve been to your tackle shop.”
“Is very hard to meet new people in Halo,” he said, attempting to bow. “My apologies, darlin’. Think I’d remember a pretty, young thing like yourself. Look like my first wife. Even with that crazy hairdo.”
I surreptitiously finger-combed my hair. Not that I was trying to impress Shep.
Deputy Wellington slapped him back in his seat. “Shep, stop hitting on Cherry. You’re about fifty years too old for her anyway.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said and hiccupped.
Deputy Wellington fanned the space between Shep and his desk. “Just sit there and be still while I finish this paperwork.”
“That Shep again?” drawled a deep bass. “Wellington, throw him in the drunk tank and let him sleep. This room smells bad enough.”
I turned in my seat and saw Sheriff Will Thompson’s massive form filling the doorway. Before I was born, Uncle Will had made an easy transition from University of Georgia linebacker to Forks County crime buster with his quick wits, easy smile, and powerful handshake. Some would think having a close family friend as a sheriff would keep you out of trouble growing up. However, the Tucker kids were boundary testers. For Uncle Will, raising my family was as much of an act of community service as his dedication to the law.
As a twenty-six-year-old woman, I felt it my duty to make up for any of the gray hairs my teenage self might have added to Uncle Will’s head. Which is why I had no problem tumbling out of bed and driving across the county to sit in a chair and allow seventy-year-old bait shop owners to flirt with me.
That and I hoped to make a few bucks.
“Hey Uncle Will,” I called. “Are you ready for me yet?”
“Bring your paper and pencils,” he said.
With my messenger bag bumping my back, I hugged my chest, figuring it best not to give an extra show to Shep and the boys. I followed Uncle Will down the hallway, waiting while he unlocked a door. The door opened and two faces turned to look at us. One I didn’t recognize, but judging by his despondent expression, I figured he was probably in a mess of trouble. The other person, another deputy, I identified immediately. Hard not to recognize those brown ochre curls with the highlights I had decided were transparent oxide-red lake. Or the lean, muscled body, much like Michelangelo’s David. Or by the strong jaw buttressing two adorable dimples that made a rare showing.
Unfortunately, I knew Deputy Luke Harper a little too well.
He gave me a scant nod and turned back to the perp.
My hand snuck back to my hair and yanked on a particularly tall cowlick in back. I gritted my teeth and gave myself a quick lecture not to make a scene. We had aired our irreconcilable differences behind the local roadhouse, Red’s County Line Tap, a few months ago and I had not quite recovered.
“That’s Tyrone Coderre,” said Uncle Will. “He’s going to give you a description to draw. We need a composite sketch.”
Uncle Will stopped me before I entered the room and pulled me to the side. “Can I leave Deputy Harper in there with you or do I need to call in another officer? Harper’s the one who picked up Coderre, so this is his invest
igation.”
“I’m quite capable of separating my personal and professional life,” I said, tilting my chin so I could eyeball Uncle Will. “You might want to ask the same of him.”
“I trust Luke not to screw up his job. You are another story.”
I gave him a “why, I never” gasp.
“I’m going to be watching through the two-way.” He tapped my messenger bag. “Lucky for you, I don’t know other artists to call during the middle of the night. Wouldn’t want to be accused of nepotism. But I want a sketch while the memory is still fresh in Coderre’s mind. Don’t disappoint me, Cherry.”
“So, this is an important investigation?” Excitement zipped through my veins and made my fingers tingle. “I won’t let you down. You can even deputize me if you want.”
Uncle Will chuckled. “Just draw us a good picture. That’s plenty helpful.”
“Yes, sir,” I said and snuck by him to enter the room. I nodded to the man in the black sweat suit behind the table and held out my hand. “Hello, Mr. Coderre. I’m Cherry Tucker, a local artist.”
“Don’t shake his hand,” barked Luke. “Are you crazy?”
Tyrone Coderre’s cuffed hands retreated below the table, and I blew out a hard breath.
Looked like it was going to be a long night. At least the criminal had manners.
Couldn’t say the same for the cop.
“How’s this?” I held up a page from my sketch pad. After a few false starts, Tyrone Coderre settled on a long, oblong face with a rounded jaw line. The composite had shoulder-length hair, blond and on the thinnish side, and a soft mouth. “Are you sure he’s not a girl?”
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