by Lilly York
I Scream, You Scream
A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery
Book 2
Lilly York
©2016 by Lilly York
lillyyork.com
All rights reserved.
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author or publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
Cover Design: Jonna Feavel
40daygraphics.com
Illustrations: Ben Gerhards
Interior Layout: Daniel Mawhinney
40daypublishing.com
Published by: Wide Awake Books
wideawakebooks.com
Also available in print publication
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, to factual events or to businesses is coincidental and unintentional.
To stay informed on the whereabouts and goings-on of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Characters as well as upcoming releases, recipes and maybe a clue or two, join Lilly’s e-mail club by going to…
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Also by Lilly York
The Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series
Chili to Die For (Book 1)
I Scream, You Scream (Book 2)
This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead (Book 3)
Southern Fried Son of a Gun (Book 4 – Coming Soon)
CONTENTS
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
Willow’s Six Week Muffin Mix
Willow’s Peanut Butter Cookies
Willow’s Corn Chowder
Please enjoy this excerpt from ‘This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead’, Book 3 of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series
Author Bio
A Yankee’s Guide to Southern Phrases
Chapter 1
Willow loved listening to the whir of her new cappuccino machine. She finally invested in updating the Willow Tree Sweet Shoppe and part of that renovation was a brand new specialty coffee bar. She loved the new look. She tried to please all her customers, which was tough to do since trying to please everyone has always been futile and completely against Willow’s nature. Her ice cream parlor was brightly lit with colorful candy hues. The other half of her shop was now a coffee bar and was muted and serene in earth tones. She had a glass wall built between the two dining areas to keep the coffee bar area quiet while the ice cream side was fun and playful. While the dining area was separated, the work area behind the counter was one long service area. Which meant any employee could take care of customers on both sides of the store. It was a big investment, but so far everyone seemed happy.
She had doubled her business since adding the coffee line. People would stop by the shop on their way to work, if they were meeting a friend, or if they just felt like a good cup of coffee to go with the book they were reading. She even had an author or two who came in regularly to write. She had no idea authors lived in her area of the world. She thought they all lived in New York or L.A. She tried to peek every now and again to see what they were working on, but she didn’t want to lose their business so she tried not to be too nosy.
Today, her mystery writer was in. He pretty much kept to himself. He didn’t divulge much, but once in a while he would throw out an idea and get her opinion on it. He loved her coffee and pastries. The comfortable working stations helped too.
She finished making his coffee. “Here you go, Mr. Rune.” She handed him the coffee and took his fiver. They had it down to a science now. The change went into the tip jar which was split between all the employees at the end of the night.
Willow whispered his first name when he was out of range of hearing. Huxley Rune. Best-selling mystery author. New York Times Best Selling Author. She wondered if he had programmed Siri on his phone to say, “Hello New York Times Best Selling Author” when she was addressing him. She would if she was a best-selling author.
She looked at her watch. She still had a few things to do for the ice cream festival that was kicking off the next afternoon. Including getting her shop ready for the Karaoke party which started in less than two hours.
Mr. Rune would be taking his computer and leaving for the night when he realized what would be going on. Karaoke. The town loved it. He hated it.
Her glass partition wall was on a track and could be opened to make one big room for bigger parties. It was fantastic. She had so many options with this new system.
The guy she hired to run karaoke walked through the door and she waved him over. She had a little stage in the coffee shop side, which she used for open mic night as well as karaoke.
“Hey, Mitch, what would you like to drink?”
He perused the menu. “Hmm, how about a bigger Frappuccino?”
“Okay, I’ll get it ready for you.” She had gone with big, bigger, and biggest to describe her drink sizes for the 12, 16, and 20 ounce size cups. She enjoyed being different. It was what set her apart.
As she was making the drink, she noticed Clyde come in. Clyde was fairly rotund with thinning hair and a few teeth shy of a mouthful. He clearly was missing a few in the brains department as well. Some said he was just a little slow because he took drugs when he was younger while others said he was disabled. Willow wasn’t sure which it was, but when he was around trouble usually followed close behind. And since her days as a murder suspect a few weeks before, Willow was trying to keep her nose clean. Which was, for some reason, really hard to do. Because trouble also liked to follow her around. Put her and Clyde in the same room together and trouble pretty much was a guarantee.
She watched him carefully.
He walked straight to Mr. Rune’s table and started speaking and gesturing with his hands. The way he talked, in a kind of a slow whine, made it difficult for Willow to hear.
The blender mixing the frap didn’t help her ability to hear either. She turned the blender off and filled the glass, topped it off with whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate and caramel, stuck a straw in it, then took it to Mitch who was already setting up. She couldn’t help it if Mr. Rune’s table was near the stage, could she?
She had no idea Clyde knew Mr. Rune. None whatsoever. She was close enough to hear the words “money, cheated, never again,” and “you’ll pay.” Hmm…wonder what happened between the two of them?
Clyde left right after speaking with the author. Mr. Rune went back to his writing like nothing had happened. Maybe this time she was wrong. Maybe Clyde hadn’t brought trouble with him.
Mitch finished setting up and a few minutes later Mr. Rune ordered another coffee, although this time, it was to go. He knew it was about to get loud and, well, loud wasn’t the writer’s style. He gathered up his belongings and put them in his leather brief case, and took his coffee and left. She wouldn’t see him until after the ice cream festival. She had tried to talk him into participating but he muttered something about deadlines, rewrites, and time, then shook his he
ad and stalked off, obviously in a mood. She had thought perhaps having a famous writer’s name attached to the ice cream festival would bring in some much needed income for the town.
The other writer in town, Jasper James, volunteered to help. Willow was glad for the help, but, because the writer wasn’t well known, he wasn’t going to attract a crowd like Huxley Rune would have. Oh well, you can’t have it all.
6:30. 30 minutes until show time. She opened the glass partition and one of her part timers helped her rearrange the tables and chairs, making sure there was plenty of room for all who wanted to attend.
Willow was surprised to see Clyde return. He ordered a chocolate milk shake, found a table, and waited for the fun to begin.
Karaoke was in full swing. Willow had brought in two of her part timers and Janie, her best friend who normally worked the morning shift to help with the crowd. Business was booming. She finally felt like she was starting to become part of the town. Last month’s fiasco with the chili cook-off almost sent her packing.
She smiled as three teenage girls took the stage. The music started up and all three of them were giggling. As the music they chose filled the room, Clyde flew up out of his chair in a rage. He took long strides and approached the stage. He was shaking his head and telling them he didn’t like the song they were singing. This time Willow got involved.
“Clyde, leave the girls alone.”
“This isn’t an appropriate song. They have to stop singing this song.”
Willow recognized the song as an upbeat song sung by the Dixie Chicks. Apparently some people still harbored bitterness over the chicks’ political position they took years ago. “Clyde, the girls aren’t making a political statement. They are just singing a fun song about a guy named Earl. Leave them alone.”
He walked back to his table, complaining as he went. “They shouldn’t sing this song. It’s not right. This is a celebration in America. We shouldn’t sing songs like that. It’s a bad song.”
Willow understood. Back in the day she hadn’t been pleased about the route the singing group took in expressing their opinions either. In fact, she threw away the cds she owned of theirs. But, years had passed and she’d learned you have to forgive and move on or the bitterness would eat you up. Besides, the Earl song was fun. It even made her smile.
As soon as she was behind the counter, the loud pounding music came to an abrupt halt. The entire system had stopped working. She scanned the room and found Clyde on his hands and knees by the electrical outlet. She blew out an aggravated breath then confronted Clyde.
“Clyde, you are done here. You are not welcome in my shop. You are banned.”
He started to protest. “That is a bad song. You shouldn’t let them sing that song. Earl Rune had to die. It’s a bad song.”
Willow thought she heard him wrong. “Clyde, did you say the song is about Earl Rune? Mr. Rune’s first name is Huxley, not Earl. Okay? The song isn’t about Mr. Rune. The song is just pretend. Someone made it up. It’s not about anyone in particular.” She paused to see if he was listening to her. “You need to go home, Clyde. We’ll talk tomorrow to see if you are banned. I don’t want to ban you but you can’t be doing things like that. It isn’t polite.”
“Earl Rune had to die. Earl Rune had to die.” He muttered again as he left the coffee shop.
Chapter 2
Willow watched through the window front as Embry’s car slowly passed the shop. She chuckled. Parking spaces near the shop were at a premium. Even the private ones behind the building were already filled up. Good luck, little girl. Willow laughed when she saw her car pass again going the opposite direction. She’d probably have to park at the middle school and either walk or flag down one of the volunteers with access to a golf cart.
She went back to stocking her shelves. Today could very well be the busiest day of the year and a day that could give the shop a little nest egg for the future. She, along with her three part timers, Kenzie, Paige, and Gloria, her best friend, Janie, and her daughter, Embry, were all on staff today. The morning had already seen lines standing outside the door and down the sidewalk.
Embry walked through the door 15 minutes later. “Better late than never!” She called out to anyone listening as she disappeared through the office door to put her things away.
Upon returning, Willow handed Embry her apron. “Here you go. I made this one just for you.”
“Mom, you took up sewing?”
“No, let me rephrase that. I had this made just for you.”
Embry laughed. “That’s what I thought.” She unfolded the apron. “You remembered!” She read the little ditty out loud. “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.” It had a big triple dip ice cream cone on the front.
“I had these made up to surprise you. Everyone got one a little different from the others. Yours, of course, just had to have your favorite childhood chant when you wanted a blue moon ice cream cone. You were quite annoying at times.”
“I learned from the best.” Embry smiled, kissed her mother’s cheek, and jumped in to wait on customers.
The park across the street was beginning to fill up. The carnival rides were still, waiting for the start time. Although the event didn’t officially start until early evening, people were walking around anticipating the fun they would have with their families. The whole downtown area was hopping. Willow Tree Ice Cream and Coffee Shoppe was on Main Street which ran directly through the middle of town. Her shop and the park were at one end of the street and Molly’s Café was at the other end. Everything else; the library, police station, city hall, and the fire department, was in-between.
Willow had talked to Molly that morning and found out she had to send someone on an emergency run for more supplies. Business was booming for both of them. They both decided it was a good problem to have. Her marketing worked. It was about time she put her college degree to good use. Even without the help of Mr. Rune, her little town would see a record number of visitors thanks to her efforts.
Later in the afternoon there would be traditional contests like the three legged race and the potato sack race, among others and families would be spread out listening to the bands scheduled to play while picnicing. The dunk tank had been filled and was waiting for its first victim. She was even hosting a karaoke contest, despite the problems the night before with Clyde. She shook her head. What in the world was he talking about? Earl Rune had to die? Nonsense.
Willow wanted to check on command central. She was the official hostess for the Ice Cream Festival and it was her duty to make sure everything was operating smoothly. She called out to Janie, “I’m gonna walk over to the park for a little bit. You all good here?”
Janie waved her on. “Go. It’s good to get out among the people. Besides, don’t you have work to do for the festival? You aren’t supposed to be locked up in here waiting on people.” She looked around at her cohorts. “Isn’t that what we’re all here for?”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” She held up her phone. “If you need me, give me a call.”
Willow walked outside and turned her face toward the sun. It was already warm enough to send sweat droplets skittering down her spine. In a couple of hours she would be covered in perspiration. She had to agree with one of her younger customer’s exclamations. Every day he came in for an ice cream cone and every day he said, “I feel like a hotdog on a grill.” She didn’t bother asking him how he knew what a hotdog felt like. She understood the sentiment perfectly. Those 100 degree days were unheard of in the north. She wished she was independently wealthy and could afford a summer house in Door County, located in the thumb of the north east part of the state of Wisconsin. Beautiful country. Alas, that was not the case so she would have to acclimate.
Willow crossed the street, waving to people as she walked. Her place in the community had been sealed when she cleared her own good name and revealed Annabelle Butterfield as a murderer. She’d just as soon forget the whole ordeal and serve up dishes of ice cre
am and creamy lattes. A much better way to spend her days than dealing with murder.
The craft show vendors were setting up. She stopped to admire some bookshelves. “These are beautiful!” She ran her hand over the intricately carved book case. “Do you make them?”
“I do.” He handed her a business card. “I’m Vick. Nice to meet ya.”
She glanced at the price tag and let out a low whistle. So much for getting one for the coffee shop. She had been thinking of putting in a shelf of books for her patrons, and one of the shelves in front of her would be beautiful in the shop, but she couldn’t afford that price.
“I mostly do custom work. I normally don’t do craft fairs.”
“Good idea. It’ll get your name out there, let people get to know your work. Do you live here in Turtle?”
“No, I live a couple of towns over. About 20 miles from here.”
“Well, welcome to Turtle’s ice cream festival. The crowds will be crazy tomorrow.” She smiled at him then moved to the next vendor.
The petting zoo was getting their fence put together. Classic cars lined the street. The only negative about being the chairwoman for this year’s event was she couldn’t enter the homemade ice cream contest. Willow wasn’t happy but she managed to talk Embry into entering. That would have to suffice for this year. Willow did not approve of her flavor, but, beggars couldn’t be choosy. Bacon and Waffle Ice Cream. Who ever heard of such a thing?
She shrugged her shoulders and continued to walk around, checking to see if anyone needed anything as she went. Steve caught up with her as she walked. He was going to be the main attraction for the dunk tank. She wanted to be first in line. He had no idea but she was a pitcher for her softball team in high school. And she had been practicing.
