Killer Classics

by Kym Roberts

  Cover Copy

  Small-town life in Hazel Rock becomes a Texas-size crime scene when murder takes a page from Charli Rae Warren’s book club’s latest mystery…

  Charli takes great pride in running one of the few independent, family-owned bookstores in small-town Texas. She vets everything carefully, with an eye to the eclectic tastes of the locals. That includes the Book Barn’s weekly book club selection. This time out it’s a mystery whose characters bear a striking resemblance to local citizens, including Charli’s friend Sugar…who’s the prime suspect when her real-life nemesis is found dead in the hotel’s water tank.

  With help from her pet armadillo Princess, Charli campaigns to clear Sugar’s sweet name—literally—when the up-for-election mayor becomes a killer’s next target. Murder and politics make scandalous bedfellows as Charli discovers that fiction may be fatal, but reality could be just as deadly…

  The Book Barn Mystery Series by Kym Roberts

  Fatal Fiction

  A Reference to Murder

  Perilous Poetry

  Lethal Literature

  Killer Classics

  Table of Contents

  Cover Copy

  The Book Barn Mystery Series by Kym Roberts

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Teaser Chapter

  About the Author

  KILLER CLASSICS

  A Book Barn Mystery

  Kym Roberts

  LYRICAL UNDERGROUND

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Lyrical Press books are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Kym Roberts

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund- raising, and educational or institutional use.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  LYRICAL PRESS Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  First Electronic Edition: December 2018

  eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0659-2

  eISBN-10: 1-5161-0659-8

  First Print Edition: December 2018

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0661-5

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-0661-X

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  For the characters who inspire the mystery

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the members of the Kensington team who have made this series possible. I am ever so grateful for their hard work and patience. Thank you to my editor Martin Biro, who is the brain behind several of my titles, including Killer Classics and the man who made the series possible. I would be remiss to forget Penny’s line edits—whew! She worked hard! Thank you to my agent, Kim Lionetti, who has been with me from the beginning—pushing me and my work to make it the best it can be. Keep pushing, Kim! But most of all, thank you dear readers. Y’all have made my Book Barn Mysteries a fun and joyous adventure. Without you, there would be no Princess or Team Mateo.

  Chapter 1

  “Sugar did it.”

  Sugar’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head at Reba Sue’s accusation.

  “Sugar didn’t kill anyone,” Leila argued. “The woman traps scorpions at the bar and releases them outside.” Leila shuddered, her round body jiggling from head to toe. “Stupid critters belong under a boot heel.”

  Reba Sue, however wasn’t backing down. “We’re not talking about Sugar killing a pest that could sting her,” she insisted. “We’re talking about a gold-diggin’ woman dying after she made a move on Sugar’s man. I’m telling you, any woman would kill Maddie after what that good for nothin’ tramp did. And Sugar is no different.”

  My best friend Scarlet joined the argument. “As usual, you’re barking up the wrong hemline, Reba Sue. Liza Twine killed her.” Scarlet ticked off the points of her argument on two well-manicured, red nails. “She had motive and opportunity.”

  Liza Twaine scoffed. Her purple nails drummed on the surface of the hand-milled, ten-foot-long table the women of the Mystery Moms Book Club were gathered around. It was like a personal nail war going on between the two of them. “What could I possibly have against Maddie?”

  The rest of the book club members in the loft of my family bookstore, the Book Barn Princess, began arguing back and forth. More names were thrown into the hat as potential suspects to the murder.

  Rolling my eyes, I put my index finger and thumb together, raised them to my lips, and let loose a whistle loud enough to bring the rafters down. The argument stopped cold turkey. All twelve women turned as one to look at me.

  “May I remind y’all that you’re talking about characters in a book—not our very own Sugar who is sitting right here.”

  Sugar’s lips pursed, and her chin bobbed toward her chest in a silent thank you for me giving her redemption.

  “And…” I raised my hand to Maddie sitting on the opposite side of the table. “Sugar brought Maddie as a guest to our book club today. I hardly think they’re at odds.”

  We all looked at Maddie, who had the same features as Sugar. Both in their twenties with blue eyes and long, blond hair, the two could have been sisters. Instead, they had both fallen for the same man, five years apart. Maddie was the ex-wife in the relationship, while Sugar was the current girlfriend.

  “I would hope that Sugar or Liza Twaine wouldn’t dream of trying to kill me.” Maddie flipped her blond hair over her shoulder.

  Daisy coughed and said something under her breath that wasn’t fit for print. “Well, I’ve finished the book, and I can tell you that—”

  Every member of the Mystery Moms Book Club’s voice rose to stop Daisy, our eldest member, before she could give away the plot. Most of the women hadn’t finished the book since I’d just sent out the recommendation the previous day. In fact, we weren’t even supposed to be discussing Woman Scorned until next week. Yet the book had grabbed their attention, and their responses had been passionate. Between the loud noises, squeals, and inappropriate ph
rases, I truly hoped we didn’t have any tourists shopping on the lower lever of the store. Any outsiders would think we were plum crazy. Anyone who lived in the tri-county area would know it was just book club Wednesday.

  Daisy’s husband Jessie cleared the air of animosity. “That’s my wife,” he said with sarcasm dripping off every word.

  All the women began to laugh…with the exception of Daisy. Her scowl deepened as she directed it toward Jessie. She obviously didn’t care for her husband talking about her in that tone. Especially when it was so close to the line she was famous for using when talking about him. That’s my husband was the most commonly used phrase in Hazel Rock thanks to Daisy, and it had multiple meanings. It could mean, get your grubby paws away from my man, or this old coot is going to get an earful when I get him alone. The possibilities were endless—until Jessie applied the phrase to Daisy.

  I was betting that would be the first and last time he tried it.

  “Doesn’t anyone else find it creepy that the author used real people from our town to write a murder mystery?” I asked.

  Reba Sue dismissed my concern. “He changed the names.”

  “Changing Sugar’s name to Candy isn’t much of a stretch,” I argued. “Not to mention killing off Maddie—I mean Pattie, isn’t very nice if he’s angling it about real people.” The author had changed Maddie’s name, to Pattie in his book and her death hadn’t been pleasant.

  “That’s because he was smitten with Sugar. The way my husband used to be with me.” Daisy glared at Jessie sitting across the room reading a copy of Rodeo Times. As a retired rodeo star, Jessie loved to catch up on what was going on throughout the circuit with the monthly newspaper.

  Jessie lowered the paper and winked at Daisy. “I still am, darlin’.”

  Daisy’s frown disappeared, and a twinkle appeared in her eyes.

  “Nathan Daniels wasn’t smitten. He was obsessed with Sugar,” Leila interjected.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “He came into the bar every night and watched her. If Sugar wasn’t scheduled, he’d turn around and head out without having one beer. He claimed she was inspiring his next best seller.” Leila’s nose scrunched with distaste. “I think he was one creepy man.”

  Mateo Espinosa, the county sheriff who’d kept silent throughout the entire meeting while he leaned against the railing with his chiseled arms folded across his chest, frowned. His brown uniform wasn’t the most appealing, but the body that filled it out made up for the putrid color. Tall and muscular, he had dark hair and dark eyes that put him in the Sheriff McDreamy category. “Why didn’t someone say something to me?”

  Leila shook her head, her curls jiggling in time with her body. “Sugar never complained. Not once. She said it was fine if he looked, as long as he didn’t touch. I had Joe watching him whenever he came into the bar.”

  Joe and Leila Buck owned the Tool Shed Tavern. It was where everyone went on Monday, Thursday, and Sunday nights during football season. When it wasn’t football season, they offered the only live entertainment in town every Friday night. The bar had been a staple in town long before my family had moved to Hazel Rock, Texas.

  Mateo looked at Sugar. “You should have said something.”

  I knew Mateo better than most people in Hazel Rock. He was irritated that he missed something everyone else knew about. I could tell by the creases forming in his brow. Right now, he wasn’t happy with the possibility of someone stalking Sugar.

  And, like Mateo, I wasn’t comfortable with it either. “Changing the name of the Tool Shed to the Tool Shack for his novel wasn’t exactly a stretch of the imagination,” I said.

  “Nor is Eliza Blain that far of a stretch from Liza Twaine. From what I’ve read so far, he’s depicted me as a desperate reporter who’d stop at nothing to get a story. Including murder.”

  No one argued with Liza. If anything, a few heads nodded in agreement with the author’s description of her. Which was enough to tick Liza off from here ‘til Tuesday.

  “Whatever.” She huffed. “I have a deadline to make.” Liza got up and stomped down the steps in her four-inch, purple stilettos.

  “See you next week!” I called down to her. Her response was mumbled too quietly for me to hear before she disappeared behind the swish of the sliding front doors.

  Daisy continued the discussion. “Luckily, Nathan Daniels doesn’t write true crime stories. If he did, his book would have left one of us dead, one of us widowed, and one of us locked up. The last thing we need is trouble.”

  “This town could use a little trouble,” Jessie said from behind his newspaper.

  The silence echoed as we waited for Jessie to explain himself. Even Daisy seemed shocked by her husband’s comment. The sound of Daddy ringing up a sale downstairs traveled to us, and I felt momentary relief that at least something was going right this morning, since the book club was turning out to be a bust. When Jessie let his comment fester as he turned the page of his newspaper, his wife finally responded for all of us.

  “You’ve done lost your mind Jessie; none of us are young enough to stir up anything anymore.”

  Several of the mystery moms nodded in agreement, but Mateo just grinned and looked in my direction.

  “I know you’re not thinking that I’m a troublemaker,” I leaned over and whispered in his ear.

  “I’m thinking your name is synonymous with trouble.”

  Before I could respond my daddy made his way up the stairs. In his late fifties, he was lean and fit with enough gray in all the right places to make him look distinguished. His plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots were pretty common in Hazel Rock, especially for the men of his generation.

  “Has Cade moved in?” he asked me. “His stuff is scattered everywhere.”

  Mateo’s left eyebrow rose a quarter of a centimeter. No one noticed it. Except me.

  Jessie laid his paper in his lap. “And the trouble begins.”

  Daisy smiled at her spouse as she swiped the air in his direction. “That’s my husband.”

  I laughed at my father’s question, but it sounded more like a nervous cackle. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  The members of the Mystery Moms were intrigued. They saw the opportunity to get the answers to a question that had plagued the citizens of Hazel Rock for over a dozen years. Would the town princess and her hero, Hazel Rock’s current mayor, get back together, or not?

  We would not.

  Mateo uncrossed his legs as he leaned against the post at the top of the steps. We’d been quietly dating for the past several months. For a small town, it was amazing that our relationship had never filled the rumor mill with yards of material. No one teased us, and no one asked us about it. They just let us be, and that was the way I liked it. But it looked like Daddy had opened a can of worms that was going to start the rumor mill grinding at full speed.

  Mateo snuck a peek in the opposite direction of the front door. Again, no one noticed his reaction to the conversation. But I’d recently found I could read him like a children’s novel, and by turning his back away from the front door, Mateo’s actions told me he was more than a little bit interested in where Cade Calloway had left his “stuff.” Mateo always watched the front door. The last thing he was comfortable doing was turning his back to any door, yet apparently not knowing about Cade’s things sprawled across the tearoom downstairs made him even more uncomfortable.

  The wicked woman in me took pleasure in his insecurity. It was the biggest reveal to date as to how much it would bother him if Cade and I got back together.

  Which we were not doing. Cade was my ex-high school sweetheart, for Pete’s sake. There were too many years under that particular bridge. I glanced at the boxes of Cade’s stuff that had overflowed into the loft. Hopefully everyone would continue to think they were used books I needed to put out for sale. Cause if they didn’t…


  “Can we talk about this later?” I asked under my breath as Daddy approached me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Is that why we had to meet up here instead of in the tearoom?” My best friend Scarlet asked.

  Scarlet was the last person I expected to lead the charge into private matters of my heart, or to stir up the trouble that was beginning to brew. My best friend knew what the women were like when they smelled blood—they’d grab hold of the gossip, shake it one way, and if nothing came out, they’d shake it the other way before tossing it in the air for the next mystery mom to try her luck at ferreting out the answers.

  “I saw them huddled together at the back door of the Barn this morning. They were real cozy-like,” added Reba Sue. She’d had her eye on Cade for the past several years, but a couple months back she’d realized she didn’t stand a chance. It wasn’t my fault. Reba Sue lost Cade to the same woman everyone lost Cade to—his career.

  Unfortunately, I was pretty sure she hit record on her phone to get the scoop on the town mayor. I had no doubt this conversation was going to make it to Liza Twaine’s in-box at the local TV station. Cade was not going to be happy.

  “It’s not true!” I screeched with a nervous look in Mateo’s direction. His brow was wrinkled, but he didn’t say a word, and his dark Latino eyes lost their expressiveness.

  Fuzz buckets. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking now, but I knew it couldn’t be good. The problem was that I’d been sworn to secrecy, and breaking Cade’s trust was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Let’s get back to the reason why we’re here—we were talking about next week’s mystery, Woman Scorned by Nathan Daniels,” I said.

  Daisy Mahan rescued me. “I knew the killer from page one.”

  “So did I,” added Scarlet as she reached for the pitcher of tea in the middle of the table.

  “You haven’t even finished the book,” Reba Sue protested. Tall with a little too much makeup, her complaint was loud and impatient. She rolled her eyes when everyone looked at her. “What? She hasn’t. None of us have.”