by Susan Harper
They were doing a cake tasting at Overton’s Events for Monte and Dawn, and their friends had all tagged along for free cake. Veronica, Autumn, Jefferson, and Brian were all present in addition to the couple. “I like this one!” Monte exclaimed, and the group all laughed.
“Monte apparently likes all of the cakes,” Dawn said.
“Which is why the ladies are here to assist him,” Veronica said. “If you’re going to go strawberry, then go full-fledged strawberry. But, you have to keep your guests in mind. Monte’s Aunt Laurie is allergic to strawberries and so are all of her kids.”
“Oh, wow, I completely forgot about that,” Monte said. “Thanks.”
“It’s why I’m the maid of honor,” Veronica said.
“I haven’t picked a maid of honor yet, Veronica,” Dawn said, but they all knew she was just pestering Veronica. Monte had announced his best man was to be his younger brother, but Dawn had yet to make anything official. She winked at Veronica. “Of course you’re my maid of honor, Veronica.”
Veronica smiled. “Good. That means Monte’s cuter little brother gets to walk me down the aisle.”
“He’s too young for you, you cougar,” Monte said.
“Mama likes ‘em young,” Veronica teased.
“You’re ridiculous, he’s nineteen,” Autumn said, shaking her head. Felicity merely laughed.
“Hey, is this new?” Brian asked, ending the ridiculous conversation. He pointed to a large framed picture on the far wall of Wanda.
“Yeah,” Jefferson said. “Felicity hung it up yesterday. Looks good, doesn’t it?”
“It’s thanks to Wanda that the business is doing as well as it is,” Felicity said. “When we have slow months, being the official planners for the city sure does make a difference. It keeps us here. I felt like a little memorial would be appropriate.”
“You never gave us your sleuthing story,” Monte said. “I like it when you tell your stories.”
Felicity laughed. “Well,” she said. “I remember when I first spoke to Frankie, something had seemed a little off with the way he was quick to start blaming people. Ricky, for instance. He also admitted to having a grudge against Wanda for getting Ricky arrested.”
“What made you so sure it was him?” Brian asked.
“Well, I remember thinking he made a lot of money for an elementary school teacher. He had given me some bogus story about getting involved in investing. So what really got me was when I went to speak to Tiffany. I remember thinking that the handwriting for that note the killer sent Wanda had been ridiculously neat; the handwriting analysis suggested it was a man, though. I really owe it to Tiffany for helping me piece it all together. She said something about how elementary school teachers always have neat handwriting, and then it just hit me. Tiffany had worked with Frankie, which was how she had met Ricky. Ricky had been the one to introduce Tiffany and Tina to Matthew and Michael.”
“And I’m guessing after he shot at the officers who came to arrest him, that’s pretty much going to confirm everything, right?” Jefferson asked.
“That and the insane amount of drugs they found on his property,” Felicity said. “Tina is going to be getting a reduced sentence. She’s cooperating with the investigation and has even ratted on her sister. Not that the recording I sent Jack wouldn’t have already done that somewhat, but having one of her dealers speak to my credit sure is helping. Turns out over the years, Tiffany has recruited over seventy kids from local high schools in Atlanta. Tina’s been giving names of those kids, and hopefully, they’ll be able to get them some help and get them away from the drug scene.”
“Well, another job well done, Felicity,” Monte said, shoving another piece of cake in his mouth. “Please tell me that this was the last slice of cake. I don’t think I can physically eat any more cake.”
“Well, Monte,” Dawn said, teasing. “That’s because it’s a cake tasting. You’re not supposed to stuff your face on every flavor Felicity brings out. You just eat one of these little squares.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know if it’s good enough from just one little bite?” he asked, causing the group to all laugh at his expense.
“Look,” Veronica pointed toward the window where they could see Jack crossing the street. “About time he showed up!”
“He was working, Veronica,” Felicity said, but she took note that he had already changed out of uniform and had clearly taken his time making his way over to the shop.
Jack entered and he gave a half-hearted smile to Monte and Dawn. “Long time no see, Jack,” Brian said, greeting him at the door, but Jack bypassed him and ignored his comment completely.
Jefferson brought out another sample plate, causing enough distraction for no one to take note of Jack’s distant behavior. Soon the group was all gathered around the new plate, apart from Jack, who had managed to find himself a corner to sulk in. While everyone was chatting up the new flavor, Felicity separated herself and headed over to Jack. Jefferson followed. “Everything all right, Jack?” Felicity asked.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he said sharply.
“Not buying it,” Jefferson said. “What do you think, Felicity?”
“Nope. Something’s bothering him,” she teased and then glanced back at Brian and frowned. “Okay, what is it about Brian this time? It’s about Brian right? Why are you two so bothered by him, honestly?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in here and cause a scene. I’ll play nice,” Jack promised, but that was not a satisfactory answer for Felicity. She stared him down and crossed her arms, waiting for a better response. Jack sighed. “I was about to get off work. I called up Patrick to see how he’s doing; he’s getting released from the hospital today. Anyway, after I hung up, my boss pulls me into his office to review Wanda’s case to get the files together. Take a guess as to who is defending the man who shot my partner?”
Felicity frowned and glanced back at Brian, who was happily chatting with Autumn, Dawn, Monte, and Veronica about cake flavors. “Please don’t tell me Frankie hired Brian,” Felicity grumbled.
“Frankie hired Brian,” Jack said. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I know the man is just doing his job. He’s a good lawyer, and Frankie is a man with money. I shouldn’t get mad, but, man, this is really personal. That guy shot my partner, almost killed him. He shot two other cops too. It’s just kind of hard knowing that the man you’re with is going to be defending that prick.”
“He’s just doing his job,” Felicity said. “But it’s okay. I understand if it gets you a little upset. Honestly, I don’t really care for it either. Brian hasn’t even told me. I wonder if he was ever going to tell me at all?”
“I can put on a nice face,” Jack said. “I’m sorry I even told you. Don’t even worry about it, okay? I’m sorry I said anything. I should have just let him tell you. Please don’t be mad at him over something I said.”
“It’s all right,” Felicity said, but she wasn’t so sure that it was.
She walked back over with the rest of the group with Jack and Jefferson. She tried to not think about it for the time being. For now, she just enjoyed the cake tasting.
Thanks for reading Horse Drawn Homicide. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
If you would like to know about future cozy mysteries by me and the other authors at Fairfield Publishing, make sure to sign up for our Cozy Mystery Newsletter. We will send you our FREE Cozy Mystery Starter Library just for signing up. All the details are on the next page.
At the very end of the book, I have included a couple previews of books. First is a preview of Up in Smoke by Shannon VanBergen - it’s the first book in the Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery series. Second is a preview of A Pie to Die For - it’s the first book in the popular Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on Amazon.r />
Get Up in Smoke here: amazon.com/dp/B06XHKYRRX
Get A Pie to Die For here: amazon.com/dp/B01D6ZVT78
FAIRFIELD COZY MYSTERY NEWSLETTER
Make sure you sign up for the Fairfield Cozy Mystery Newsletter so you can keep up with our latest releases. When you sign up, we will send you our FREE Cozy Mystery Starter Library!
FairfieldPublishing.com/cozy-newsletter/
After you sign up to get your Free Starter Library, turn the page and check out the free previews :)
Preview: Up in Smoke
I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.
“Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”
“I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”
When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.
“I can tell you put a lot of work into that sign.” I carefully put my luggage to the side of it, making sure not to touch her sign—partially because I didn’t want to crush it and partially because it didn’t look like the glue had dried yet.
“Well, your grandmother didn’t give me much time to make it. I only had about ten minutes.” She glanced at the sign proudly before closing the trunk. She looked me in the eyes. “Let’s get on the road. We can chit chat in the car.”
With that, she climbed in and clicked on her seat belt. As I got in, she was applying a thick coat of bright red lipstick while looking in the rearview mirror. “Gotta look sharp in case we get pulled over.” She winked again, her heavily wrinkled eyelid looking like it thought about staying closed before it sprung back up again.
I thought about her words for a moment. She must get pulled over a lot, I thought. Poor old lady. I could picture her going ten miles an hour while the rest of Miami flew by her.
“Better buckle up.” She pinched her lips together before blotting them slightly on a tissue. She smiled at me and for a moment, I was jealous of her pouty lips, every line filled in by layers and layers of red.
I did as I was told and buckled my seat belt before I sunk down into her caramel leather seats. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, from the trip. I closed my eyes and tried to forget my troubles, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly to give all my worry and fear ample time to escape my body. For the first time since I had made the decision to come here, I felt at peace. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.
The sound of squealing tires filled the air and my eyes flung open to see this old lady zigzagging through the parking garage. She took the turns without hitting the brakes, hugging each curve like a racecar driver. When we exited the garage and turned onto the street, she broke out in laughter. “That’s my favorite part!”
I tugged my seat belt to make sure it was on tight. This was not going to be the relaxing drive I had thought it would be.
We hit the highway and I felt like I was in an arcade game. She wove in and out of traffic at a speed I was sure matched her old age.
“Ya know, the older I get the worse other people drive.” She took one hand off the wheel and started to rummage through her purse, which sat between us.
“Um, can I help you with something?” My nerves were starting to get the best of me as her eyes were focused more on her purse than the road.
“Oh no, I’ve got it. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.” She dug a little more, pulling out a package of AA batteries and then a ham sandwich.
Brake lights lit up in front of us and I screamed, bracing myself for impact. The old woman glanced up and pulled the car to the left in a quick jerk before returning to her purse. Horns blared from behind us.
“There it is!” She pulled out a package of wintergreen Life Savers. “Do you want one?”
“No, thank you.” I could barely get the words out.
“I learned a long time ago that it was easier if I just drove and did my thing instead of worrying about what all the other drivers were doing. It’s easier for them to get out of my way instead of me getting out of theirs. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” She popped a mint in her mouth and smiled. “I love wintergreen. I don’t know why peppermint is more popular. Peppermint is so stuffy; wintergreen is fun.”
She seemed to get in a groove with her driving and soon my grip was loosening on the sides of the seat, the blood slowly returning to my knuckles. Suddenly I realized I hadn’t asked her name.
“I was so confused when you picked me up from the airport instead of my Grandma Dean that I never asked your name.”
She didn’t respond, just kept her eyes on the road with a steely look on her face. I was happy to see her finally being serious about driving, so I turned to look out the window. “It’s beautiful here,” I said after a few minutes of silence. I turned to look at her again and noticed that she was still focused straight ahead. I stared at her for a moment and realized she never blinked. Panic rose through my chest.
“Ma’am!” I shouted as I leaned forward to take the wheel. “Are you okay?”
She suddenly sprung to action, screaming and jerking the wheel to the left. Her screaming caused me to scream and I grabbed the wheel and pulled it to the right, trying to get us back in our lane. We continued to scream until the car stopped teetering and settled down to a nice hum on the road.
“Are you trying to kill us?” The woman’s voice was hoarse and she seemed out of breath.
“I tried to talk to you and you didn’t answer!” I practically shouted. “I thought you had a heart attack or something!”
“You almost gave me one!” She flashed me a dirty look. “And you made me swallow my mint. You’re lucky I didn’t choke to death!”
“I’m sorry.” As I said the words, I noticed my heart was beating in my ears. “I really thought something had happened to you.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Well, to be honest with you, I did doze off for a moment.” She looked at me, pride spreading across her face. “I sleep with my eyes open. Do you know anyone who can do that?”
Before I could answer, she was telling me about her friend Delores who “claimed” she could sleep with her eyes open but, as it turned out, just slept with one eye half-open because she had a stroke and it wouldn’t close all the way.
I sat there in silence before saying a quick prayer. My hands resumed their spot around the seat cushion and I could feel the blood draining from my knuckles yet again.
“So what was it you tried to talk to me about before you nearly killed us?”
I swallowed hard, trying to push away the irritation that fought to come out.
“I asked you what your name was.” I stared at her and decided right then that I wouldn’t take my eyes off of her for the rest of the trip. I would make sure she stayed awake, even if it meant talking to her the entire time.
“Oh yes! My name is Hattie Sue Miller,” she said with a bit of arrogance. She glanced at me. “My father used to own most of this land.” She motioned to either side of us. “Until he sold it and made a fortune.” She gave me a look and dropped her voice to a whisper as she raised one eyebrow. “Of course we don’t talk about money. That would be inappropriate.” She said that last part like I had just asked her when she had last had sex. I felt ashamed until I realized I had never asked her about her money; I had simply asked her name. This woman was a nut. Didn’t Grandma Dean have any other friends she could’ve sent to get me?
For the next
hour or so, I asked her all kinds of questions to keep her awake—none of them about money or anything I thought might lead to money. If what she told me was true, she had a very interesting upbringing. She claimed to be related to Julia Tuttle, the woman who founded Miami. Her stories of how she got a railroad company to agree to build tracks there were fascinating. It wasn’t until she told me she was also related to Michael Jackson that I started to question how true her stories were.
“We’re almost there! Geraldine will be so happy to see you. You’re all she’s talked about the last two weeks.” She pulled into a street lined with palm trees. “You’re going to love it here.” She smiled as she drove. “I’ve lived here a long time. It’s far enough away from the city that you don’t have all that hullaballoo, but big enough that you can eat at a different restaurant every day for a month.”
When we entered the downtown area, heavy gray smoke hung in the air, and the road was blocked by a fire truck and two police cars.
“Oh no! I think there might have been a fire!” I leaned forward in my seat, trying to get a better look.
“Of course there was a fire!” Hattie huffed like I was an idiot. “That’s why Geraldine sent me to get you!”
“What?! Is she okay?” I scanned the crowd and saw her immediately. She was easy to spot, even at our distance.
“Oh yes. She’s fine. Her shop went up in flames as she was headed out the door. She got the call from a neighboring store owner and called me right away to go get you. Honestly, I barely had time to make you a sign.” She acted like Grandma Dean had really put her in a bad position, leaving her only minutes to get my name on a piece of poster board.
Hattie pulled over and I jumped out; I’d come back for my luggage later. As I made my way toward the crowd, I was amazed at how little my Grandma Dean—or Grandma Dean-Dean, as I had called her since I was a little girl—had changed. Her bleach blonde hair was nearly white and cut in a cute bob that was level with her chin. She wore skintight light blue denim capris, which hugged her tiny frame. Her bright white t-shirt was the background for a long colorful necklace that appeared to be a string of beads. Thanks to a pair of bright red heels, she stood eye to eye with the fireman she was talking to.