by Hillary Avis
With a glance over my shoulder, I tiptoed up the steps and placed the foil-covered plate of cake and the carton of eggs on the little porch table, and the tent on the floor next to them. I was just starting back down when a blast of water hit the stairs next to me, splashing cold droplets all over my clothes and arms. I nearly peed my pants right then and there.
Eli emerged from behind the other hydrangea bush holding a dripping hose and grinning like a maniac. “Gotcha.”
“No, you didn’t.” I smirked at him and gestured to the porch. “You got the steps.”
“Guess I need to work on my aim,” he said, winking at me. I had a sneaking suspicion his aim was just fine. “Thanks for the eggs.”
“What eggs? I just came to return your tent.” I blinked innocently at him and glanced at the table behind me, pretending to register surprise at the carton of eggs sitting there. “Oh, huh. Someone must have a crush on you.” I shrugged and tripped down the last few steps, pausing as I reached the bottom. “There’s cake, too. You should probably put that in the fridge. How’d you know I was here?”
Eli nodded to Boots. “She gave you away. I spotted her from the kitchen window and then sneaked around the back.”
“I guess my career as a cat burglar is over. You’re a terrible sidekick!” I scolded Boots. Eli grinned at me, but his smile faded fast. He rubbed his neck, rotating it.
“You OK?” I asked.
He nodded, wincing as he did so. “I think I’m getting too old for this job. It was a long day.”
“Did you guys pull the car out?”
“Took some doing. It was hung up on a tree, but we got it out. They were in there,” he added, as though it were an afterthought.
My heart skipped a beat even though I knew that news was coming. “I figured.”
“That’s the bad news. The good news is, when Terry heard we found them, he admitted everything. He’s going to plead guilty to all three murders.”
Relief flooded through me. “Did he say why he did it?”
“Same reason he shot McKenzie. He felt Ella was dishonoring his mom’s memory and he wanted to teach her a lesson. He didn’t kill them outright, though. He cut their brake lines and chased them in his truck. He wanted to scare them into following the rules, but he took it too far. They couldn’t make the turn and drove off the road into the quarry. The crown flew out the car window at some point—that’s how it lost the stone.”
I shivered, thinking of how Terry had cut my brake lines, too. I might have met the same fate as Miss Honeytree 1995 if that freight train had come a little later.
“Are you cold?” Eli’s forehead knit with concern as he stepped toward me.
“No. I just feel lucky the same didn’t happen to me—or Jillian and Archer. That must have been his plan. To get rid of all of us.” I smiled crookedly at him.
“I’m not sure he had a plan, to be honest. Or if he did, everything went wrong for him. He never meant to kill people.”
I couldn’t believe Eli was being so sympathetic to someone who’d murdered three people and tried to kill three more. “He shot McKenzie! That wasn’t an accident.”
“He said he just meant to threaten her into being a better Miss Honeytree. He took the gun to scare her, but when he saw her vandalizing Tambra’s car, he lost his temper and shot her. Then when Tambra was arrested for the murder, it really sent him over the edge. He just didn’t know what to do to make things right. He tried to do it a better way with Jillian.”
“So he threatened her with a letter instead of in person? So he wouldn’t accidentally hurt her?”
Eli nodded and rubbed his neck again.
“But when he saw it hadn’t worked, he kidnapped Jillian and Archer. One last attempt to purify the pageant,” I said bitterly. I didn’t sympathize with Terry, but I was starting to understand why he’d done what he did. “The irony is that Jillian doesn’t have an evil bone in her body. She’d be a great Miss Honeytree, but he didn’t even give her a chance.”
“She will be a great Miss Honeytree,” Eli said, putting his arm around me. “Because of you and your good aim with the hose!”
I shook my head firmly. “Because of you and your handcuffs. Water wouldn’t have solved anything if you hadn’t been there to arrest him.”
“I wouldn’t have been there if you hadn’t noticed the crown when you did. If you hadn’t, Jillian and Archer would have disappeared, and who knows if we’d have ever found them—or Ella and her boyfriend. And you and Ruth might have been stuck with Tambra’s kids forever.” He looked down at me and winked.
“That part doesn’t sound so bad.” I grinned and raised my chin, hoping for a kiss, but the moment was interrupted by a trill from Boots in the porch planter. She stood up slightly to squeeze out a large, brown egg into her flowery nest. Then she ruffled her feathers and began clucking rhythmically, every so often letting out a giant squawk of joy. My heart warmed—nothing made me happier than hearing my girls sing their egg song.
I chuckled and left Eli’s embrace to scoop up Boots, tucking her under my arm. “Guess you have a baker’s dozen now.”
“Good—I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Eli rubbed his belly, which growled audibly.
I gave him a stern look from the top of the steps. “You couldn’t even hit the drive-thru and grab a breakfast sandwich or something?”
He shook his head. “I can’t eat those things anymore, not now that I know what eggs are supposed to taste like. You’ve spoiled me.” He took the porch steps two at a time and peeked under the foil of the cake plate, then tore it all the way back and used his fingers to stuff a huge bite in his mouth. “Breakfast of champions!” he declared, his voice muffled by crumbs.
I rolled my eyes. “Cake at five p.m. isn’t breakfast.”
“Sure it is. Haven’t you heard of ‘caken and eggs’?” He grinned wolfishly at me. “Pretty sure it’s a thing.”
I set down Boots and, pushing past him, grabbed her egg out of the planter and the dozen eggs off the table. “Put down the cake; I’m making you an omelet.”
He followed me inside, still shoveling cake. After I set the eggs down, I took the plate from him and put it on the counter. “Save it for after ‘breakfast,’” I said reprovingly as I put his big cast-iron skillet on the range and dropped a pat of butter inside.
He reached around me to grab a giant frosting flower and popped into his mouth, then held the plate high above my head so I couldn’t reach it. “I’m just going to eat it until the eggs are ready!”
I jumped, trying to swipe it out of his grasp, but he just smirked at me. “You look like Boots hopping for a treat.”
“Rude!” I yelped. I knew exactly how silly that looked, because I made her do it all the time. “You’re going to ruin your appetite.”
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, licking the frosting off his fingers. “Better hurry up, then.”
I scrubbed a few eggs under warm water and cracked them into a bowl. “You’re impossible,” I said, giggling as I whisked the eggs and poured them on top of the melted butter in the pan.
“Yep. That’s why you love me.”
My heart nearly stopped. The way he said it was so casual, like it was a given. I realized, as butterflies swarmed in my stomach, that it was true. I’d never told him, and I hadn’t known myself until that exact moment, but somehow, he knew, anyway.
I folded the omelet and took it off the heat to set up before I turned to face him. “I don’t want things to change,” I said quietly as I leaned back against the cabinets and stared out the window toward my own property to avoid meeting his eyes. “I like what we have.”
He dropped the paper plate of cake on the table and in two seconds was across the kitchen, my breathless face in his hands. “I know. You told me. Chickens hate change.”
“Are you calling me a chicken?” I wrinkled my nose and he dropped a quick kiss onto it.
“Absolutely not—you’re the bravest woman I know.
But you don’t need to worry. I promise, with all my heart, that things aren’t going to change between us. They’re only going to get better.”
Other Clucks and Clues Cozy Mysteries
A Cop and a Coop (Book One)
A Flock and a Fluke (Book Two)
A Roost and Arrest (Book Three)
Stay in Touch
Receive behind-the-scenes updates, deals, sneak peeks, and other announcements—when you sign up for Hillary’s Author Updates: http://eepurl.com/dobGAD
About the Author
Hillary Avis lurks and works in beautiful Eugene, Oregon, with her very patient husband and a menagerie of kids, cats, dogs, and chickens. When she’s not thinking up amusing ways to murder people, she makes pottery, drinks coffee, and streams The Great British Bake-Off, but not all at the same time.
Hillary is the author of cozy mysteries about smart women who uncover truths about themselves, their communities, and of course any unsolved crimes they happen to stumble across. You can read more about her and her work at www.hillaryavis.com.
