Death of a Country Fried Redneck

by Lee Hollis

  That it was impossible.

  Reid wasn’t that kind of boy.

  Hayley was overreacting.

  But then Hayley pulled out her phone and played the entire recording for her daughter.

  The truth finally sunk in, and Gemma cried.

  Hayley hugged her.

  “How could I have fallen for someone like that?” Gemma asked, wiping away her tears and sniffling.

  “You’re sixteen. You’re supposed to make mistakes.”

  “But, Mom, he’s a killer!”

  “Okay, some mistakes are bigger than others. That’s why I’m here.”

  Gemma rested her head on Hayley’s shoulders. “I am so going to break up with him!”

  Hayley smiled and kissed her daughter on top of her head.

  Then Gemma sprang to her feet. “I have to call Carrie.”

  She ran up the stairs, punching numbers into her cell phone.

  Hayley checked the time on her own phone.

  She had missed most of Wade’s concert.

  It was almost over.

  And thankfully so was this entire country fried nightmare.

  Chapter 39

  Just before you cross the bridge to Mount Desert Island, where the town of Bar Harbor is located, there is a beautiful oceanfront picnic grounds called Thompson Island, a picturesque spot for tourists with a visitors’ center. A lot of travelers buy steamed lobsters from the nearby pound and gather with friends and family to enjoy the ocean view. But, today, Wade Springer’s tour crew had taken it over for their own farewell lobster feed to celebrate the money they’d succeeded in raising for the college. Mona provided all the seafood and Hayley spent the morning preparing a feast of side dishes with a decidedly southern flavor for the picnic. It was a tasty fushion of East Coast seafood and southern-style home cooking. The menu proved to be a monstrous hit. In addition to the crew, Hayley invited Liddy and Mona, who arrived with her army of kids, and Ned Weston and his daughter, Carrie, who sat at a wooden picnic table with Gemma and Dustin.

  Hayley was happy to see Ned smiling. Maybe it took the fear of his daughter going to prison to make him appreciate the smaller moments in life, and to just enjoy his time with her and not try to be so controlling.

  It seemed to be working.

  Hayley had mixed feelings about Wade leaving.

  A part of her was happy the town would finally be able to get back to normal. Another part of her was going to miss his intoxicating charm and killer smile.

  Another tour bus had been driven up from Nashville to transport the crew to their next concert in New York City and both buses were now packed and ready to hit the road once the picnic festivities wound down.

  “I really hate to say good-bye,” Wade said in a deep southern drawl as he put a hand on Hayley’s shoulder.

  She turned around and smiled. “I’m going to miss having you around here.”

  “You don’t have to. You could come with me.”

  Hayley felt butterflies in her stomach.

  Gemma’s ears perked up. She was sitting at a picnic table only a few feet away.

  “I want you to come on tour with me,” Wade said, suddenly serious.

  “As your personal chef?” Hayley asked.

  “You can cook if you want to, but that’s not a requirement,” he said, giving her a wink.

  “Can she bring her adorable, loving children?” Gemma asked, now up from the picnic table and at her mother’s side.

  Wade chuckled. “Of course. The more, the merrier.”

  Hayley turned to Gemma. “What about school?”

  “We can hire a tutor. Like all the child stars!” Gemma offered.

  Hayley took Gemma by the shoulders, turned her around, and sent her back to her table.

  She then took Wade by the hand. “As enticing an offer as that sounds, I’m afraid I’m going to have to say no.”

  Wade couldn’t hide his disappointment.

  “My life is here, Wade,” Hayley said. “My kids are in school here. My friends are here. And even though it’s a dream come true to have a superstar like Wade Springer asking me to go on tour . . .”

  “I suspect I have some competition,” Wade said, nodding.

  “The man I told you about. He’s a good man. And I need to give him a chance.”

  Wade leaned in to give Hayley a kiss. She turned away slightly and he got her on the cheek. She knew if he kissed her on the lips, she just might change her mind.

  “Well, I got to say, Hayley, my heart’s a little broken. But at least I won’t have to suffer alone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not the only one who got dumped today.”

  He pointed to his dog Delilah, who was chasing after Leroy, sniffing his butt. But Leroy, no longer interested, just kept scampering away from his oversized admirer. As far away as possible. Delilah finally gave up, and slogged slowly and sadly back over to Wade, who rubbed her head lovingly.

  “He’s very fickle,” Hayley said, watching as Dustin picked up Leroy and fed him a piece of white lobster meat.

  Wade gave Hayley one last look and then led Delilah to the tour bus, where they climbed aboard.

  Within minutes, the two buses were on the road and Wade Springer was gone from Bar Harbor.

  Hayley sighed.

  Chapter 40

  After filing her last southern-cooking column and finally putting to rest the rumors that she was Wade Springer’s new girlfriend, Hayley left work at five o’clock, and headed over to Randy’s bar to meet Liddy and Mona for an after-work cocktail.

  She arrived early.

  The bar was empty.

  Except for Michelle, who was working the bar. Hayley ordered her favorite, a Lemon Drop Martini, and after Michelle poured it from the shaker into a glass and slid it over to her, Hayley asked, “So what’s new, Michelle?”

  Michelle grinned. “Oh, I think you know, Hayley.”

  Ned Weston and Michelle were now dating out in the open, thanks to his new lease on life.

  And from what Gemma had told her, Carrie was very accepting of it and happy for her dad.

  Michelle went to take an order from another customer and Hayley took a sip of her martini.

  Delicious.

  With a nice kick.

  The perfect cocktail to drown her sorrows.

  She was already missing Wade.

  “Miss me?”

  Hayley spun around on her bar stool.

  It was him.

  Lex was back.

  “Of course I missed you.”

  Lex leaned in and took Hayley by the chin and kissed her.

  Suddenly, all thoughts of Wade Springer were gone in an instant.

  “When did you get back?”

  “Just flew in about forty-five minutes ago. Called you at home and the kids said you were here.”

  Michelle walked over to them. “Can I get you anything, Lex?”

  “Amstel Light. Thanks, Michelle.”

  She nodded and went to the cooler at the other end of the bar.

  “So,” Lex said, sitting on the stool next to Hayley and putting an arm around her. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

  “Nope. The usual boring small-town stuff. Nothing interesting at all.”

  Hayley rested her head on the warm checkered flannel shirt he was wearing, feeling safe against his broad chest.

  Lex was finally home.

  And the best part was, she couldn’t remember being so happy to see him.

  Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell

  Whew! Can I just say these past few weeks have been one wild ride, as I imagine they must say in the south? Never in a million years would I have thought that I, Hayley Powell, of Bar Harbor, Maine, would in my lifetime meet my favorite country singing idol, Wade Springer, so up close and personal—and, to top it off, become his personal chef! But I can honestly say that with all the excitement and changes that came with his visit, it just made me appreciate living a quiete
r life on this beautiful island.

  Of course, I was sad to see everyone go. But, as you all know, this town is usually filled to the brim all summer long with lots of interesting people visiting our treasured Acadia National Park, restaurants, and stores, and, since we are also a cruise ship port, you never know who you might meet!

  Speaking of never knowing who you might meet, the other night after all the brouhaha had finally seemed to settle down, it was time for me to wind down, too, so I mixed up a nice Lemon Drop Martini and planted myself in a chair out on the deck next to Leroy, who was already fast asleep and exhausted from his own little romance and adventure.

  I must have dozed off for a bit, because I was suddenly startled awake by Leroy’s frantic barking, coming from behind the garage. I struggled up off the deck chair and headed in the direction of his now high-pitched barking, which could only mean one thing . . . a cat. Whenever Leroy spots a cat, he just starts shaking and whining and barking as if he’s having some kind of seizure. It’s one of his annoying habits, which all of my neighbors are acutely aware of, but luckily seem to take in stride.

  As I raced off in the direction of his barking, I tripped over a skateboard lying in the driveway. I cursed myself for not replacing the outside motion detector spotlight bulb, because it only seemed to pop on when it wanted to, and right now it was pitch-black outside and I could barely see Leroy jumping up and down in the grass behind the garage. I called to him, but, true to form, he didn’t listen.

  “Leave that poor cat alone!” I screamed.

  I could barely make out the poor animal’s black outline in the tall grass just about ten feet from Leroy. I figured it must be our neighbor’s large black cat, Midnight, who always takes a perverse pleasure in tormenting Leroy.

  Leroy had now worked himself up into a frenzy and was darting and lunging and snapping at the poor cat. My only course of action was to rush him from behind and grab the little bugger before he sensed my presence and ducked away from me. I was almost in the perfect position to grab his collar when he suddenly lunged at the cat and out of my reach. I tripped over a branch and fell flat on my face.

  Face down in the dirt with a free mud facial (I like to look at the bright side), I heard a strange hissing sound and then Leroy yelped. I pushed myself up on my knees, and at that exact moment, my motion detector spotlight finally decided to snap on. I just stared in horror as Leroy came racing at me, suddenly bathed in light. But it wasn’t him I was looking at. It was the biggest skunk I had ever seen, staring right at me. I swear he winked at me, as if to say, “Joke’s on you,” before he turned around and lumbered away.

  I now focused my attention on the dog running at me and it was in that moment that I realized the joke truly was on me.

  Just as Leroy leapt into my arms, the foulest, most awful stench wafted up into my nostrils! It made my eyes water. The poor dog reeked to high heaven. Yes, I had to face the truth. He had just been sprayed by the big old skunk and was now wiggling in my arms and licking my face. Yup. Now I was going to be a skunk spray victim, too.

  As I trudged back to the house with my horribly smelly dog in my arms, I actually found myself thankful for last summer’s tomato bounty in the garden. I had made quarts and quarts of homemade tomato soup to freeze for the winter. I had plenty left, so I had the necessary ingredients to give myself and Leroy a tomato bath to get the smell off us.

  And, after the last couple of busy weeks, I think I just might have a nice hot bowlful of homemade tomato soup, too!

  Homemade Creamy Tomato Soup

  2 tablespoons butter

  2 tablespoons olive oil

  1 large onion, diced

  1 tablespoon minced garlic

  2 tablespoons flour

  3½ pounds ripe tomatoes, chopped

  2 tablespoons tomato paste

  2 tablespoons sugar

  3 cups vegetable broth

  teaspoon ground cloves

  Salt and pepper to taste

  ½ cup Half & Half

  Melt the butter with the oil over low heat in a pot.

  Add onion and garlic and cook over low heat until translucent, stirring occasionally.

  Sprinkle with the flour and cook 3 more minutes.

  Add tomatoes, tomato paste, sugar, and broth.

  Bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer; cover and simmer for 30 minutes.

  Season with cloves, and salt and pepper to taste.

  Remove from heat.

  Puree the soup in a food processor or blender, a little at a time.

  Pour soup through a strainer into a pot.

  Stir in the Half & Half.

  Warm soup before serving.

  A delicious treat after scrubbing off the stench from a skunk!

  Please turn the page for an exciting

  sneak peek of the next

  Hayley Powell mystery

  DEATH OF A COUPON CLIPPER

  coming soon from Kensington Publishing!

  Chapter 1

  It would be a cold day in hell before Sal Moretti allowed his employees at the Island Times newspaper to go home early. The picturesque little hamlet of Bar Harbor, Maine, certainly wasn’t hell. In fact, to hikers and mountain bikers and cruise ship passengers and lobster lovers and vacationing families from all over the world who flocked to Mount Desert Island for the breathtaking scenery of Acadia National Park, it was a nature lover’s paradise.

  But that was during the summer months. Today, on this midafternoon during a particularly brutal February, the temperature was hovering just below ten degrees and outside the picture window of the main office where Hayley Powell sat at her desk, all she could see was a white blanket of snow. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen it come down so hard.

  Hayley stood up and poured herself a cup of hot coffee from the pot she had just brewed and took a big gulp to warm herself up. Sal had allowed her to turn the thermostat up a few degrees earlier that morning, but kept a watchful eye to make sure she didn’t crank it too high and send his heating bill soaring.

  She had dressed appropriately for the workday. Long underwear. Flannel shirt. Bulky wool sweater. Jeans. Fleece snow pants over the jeans. Big clunky boots. But looking outside at the nasty weather still chilled her bones.

  Bruce Linney, the paper’s handsome crime reporter, with whom Hayley maintained a love-hate relationship, ambled out to the front office to get some coffee. He wore an expensive black cashmere sweater and khaki pants.

  “Hayley, would you mind running out and picking up some of those delicious warm blueberry muffins from the Morning Glory Bakery?” he said. “I’m sure the reporters would appreciate it.”

  “Of course, Bruce. Let me just get my dogsled team ready and I’ll be on my merry way,” Hayley said, shaking her head.

  She couldn’t believe he was serious.

  Maybe their relationship was more tolerate-hate.

  “Is that you being sarcastic?” Bruce sighed.

  “That’s me saying no, Bruce!” Hayley said. “The Morning Glory is clear across town and the streets aren’t plowed yet and even if they were, the roads are so icy I’d probably lose control of my car and skid right off the town pier!”

  “Man, Hayley, sometimes you can be such a drama queen,” Bruce said, shrugging. “I just asked for some muffins. Maybe if you thought ahead, you would have considered the weather reports, and whipped up some of your own muffins in your kitchen this morning so you wouldn’t have to go out in this nasty storm to buy us some now.”

  “You’re not getting muffins, Bruce!” Hayley said.

  Sal Moretti charged out of his office and bellowed, “Would you two pipe down? This is a newspaper, not a marriage counselor’s office!”

  Hayley and Bruce exchanged a look and called a silent truce. They both knew it was best not to tick off the boss right now, because Sal was already on edge. His wife had left him for a week to go visit her mother in North Carolina, so there was no one to take care of him at home.

&
nbsp; And this was painfully obvious. His shirts were wrinkled. There were a half-dozen empty bottles of Tums on his desk from all the late-night gorging on pepperoni pizza. The poor guy was scattered and off his game. It was clear he missed his wife terribly and didn’t like being home alone.

  “They’re saying on the Weather Channel that this storm’s only going to get worse. So I think we should all just call it a day and go home,” Sal said.

  Stunned silence.

  Sal was dismissing the staff for the day?

  And it wasn’t even three o’clock in the afternoon.

  Bruce did his best Rod Serling voice. “You’re about to enter another dimension. Next stop, the Twilight Zone!”

  “Shut up, Bruce,” Sal snapped. “I want everybody to be careful driving home. It’s a mess out there.”

  Sal rubbed his eyes and ambled back to his office.

  Hayley wasn’t going to wait for him to change his mind. She quickly shut down her computer and grabbed her green L.L.Bean winter jacket from the office closet. She threw it on, laced up her black boots, and was out the door.

  She carefully navigated the frozen walkway from the office to the street. But she still nearly lost her balance on the slippery ice and had to flap her arms like a crazy person to keep herself from falling flat on her back.

  Once she managed to reach her white Subaru wagon, which was parked up the street, she pulled on a pair of mittens her mother had knitted her twenty years ago and began brushing all the fresh snow off the car. Then, she clicked the remote key to unlock the doors, and rummaged through all the kids’ athletic equipment and empty fast-food cartons and discarded paper coffee cups in the back seat to find her red wooden-handled ice scraper.

  Hayley began hacking at the clumps of ice that had formed on her windshield, clearing enough so she could at least see where she was going on the short drive home. Then she climbed behind the wheel, shut the door, started the engine, and cranked up the heat. She waited a few minutes for the car to warm up before slowly pulling away from the curb.