by Amy Metz
“Wait a minute, how’d she get the knife?” Tess asked.
“Oh yeah. When she was hunting for him over at Martha Maye’s, her emotions got to a fever pitch. She thought he was dodging her and she snapped. Said she was then determined to either sleep with him or kill him. So she grabbed a knife out of the drawer right before she went looking for him. We got her for premeditated murder. Boom.”
“Just like that?”
“Yep.” Velveeta nodded her head. “But there’s one thing she wanted to know. She asked me how Johnny knew to go inside her house? How did he know Hector was in there?”
Jack’s face turned red. “Uh-oh. I guess I’m guilty of breaking and entering.”
“Yeah, well, remind me to arrest you later, okay?”
Everyone laughed.
“Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Jack said.
Tess cocked her head. “Why?”
“The lady-killer was killed by a lady.” Jack flashed his own lady-killer smile.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Tess groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “I’m not sure you could call her a lady.” Then she sprang back up. “But wait a minute.”
“What?”
“Why did she lock up her husband?”
“No good reason, really. Said she could no longer tolerate the man. Simple as that. She said, and I quote, ‘He’s dumb as dirt and twice as ugly.’“
“Wow. I’m glad I never ticked her off,” Martha Maye said.
“Yeah. She said all he did all day was sit around and fart, burp, complain, and make fun of her, and she was sick of it.”
“Hmm, I don’t think she oughta eat nuts,” Hank said.
Everyone looked at him as if he’d suffered a brain injury himself.
“For her, it’s practically cannibalism.”
Life is what you need. Love is what you want.
~Southern Proverb
Five months later
Lou’s backyard looked magical. Dogwood and redbud trees full of white and purple blooms dotted the lawn. Glowing white paper lanterns of all sizes hung from the fifty-year-old maple tree in the center of the yard, with a carpet of red tulips underneath. Clumps of white daffodils and narcissus with orange and yellow centers mingled with forsythia in full bloom. The scent of lilac was in the air. It was a beautiful April night in Goose Pimple Junction.
As dusk descended on the celebration, the lush green lawn twinkled with tiny tea lights scattered on pink-clothed tables. Mason jars with raffia bows were filled with bouquets of hydrangea, ranunculus, and peonies and tied to the backs of white chairs at the tables. Big vases of white hydrangeas sat on the tables as centerpieces.
But the prettiest things in Lou’s backyard were the two brides glowing with happiness.
“This is a gracious plenty,” Jack said, beaming at Tess. “Lou, you’ve outdone yourself,” he told her as she handed him a plate filled with another helping of country ham biscuits and corn pudding.
“Well, good green lands, it’s not every day my daughter gets married.” She propped her hands on her hips and looked with mock sternness at a beaming Martha Maye. “But this better be the last time.”
Jack clapped Johnny’s shoulder and said, “Oh, I think this one’s going to stick. I’ve never seen a happier man”—he smiled at Tess—”except when I look in the mirror.”
Tess kissed his cheek. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled into him.
“I’m just so happy for all y’all I could bust,” Lou said.
“I’m happy for us, too. Life is good and everything is satisfactual.” Martha Maye beamed up at Johnny, who wrapped her in his big arms, momentarily lifting her off her feet.
“Thank you for having the reception here, Lou,” Tess said. “I can’t imagine a better place.”
“I started planning for this the minute I heard y’all were having a double wedding.”
“It’s two, two, two mints in one,” Ima Jean said, joining the group.
“Imy, Charlotte, and I have been a bunch a baking fools.”
“We bring good things to life!” Ima Jean said.
“It sure is nice eating somebody else’s cooking for a change,” Slick said from the buffet table.
“He’s been grazing here so long I’m going to have to roll him home.” Junebug swatted his arm playfully.
“And didn’t the reverend do up a lovely ceremony?” Martha Maye added.
“That he did,” Lou agreed.
“Aw, look at that.” Tess pointed to her son, Nicholas, and Butterbean, who were dancing together.
“He’s so good with her,” Martha Maye said with a sigh.
Nicholas and Butterbean were not the only two on the makeshift dance floor. Pickle and Charlotte, Caledonia and Philetus, and Honey and Lolly were also swaying to the music.
“I think this is the first time I’ve seen Pickle when he wasn’t wearing a T-shirt,” Tess said.
“Yeah, but he still has on his Chuck Taylors,” Jack said.
“Lime green, of course,” Johnny added.
“C’mon, beautiful,” Jack said, tugging Tess’s arm. “Dance with me.”
“Not so fast, mister,” Lou said. “It’s time to cut the cake.”
“She’s so bossy,” Jack teased.
The peaceful calm of the wedding reception was broken temporarily when the unmistakable clap of a hand meeting flesh sounded across the backyard. Caledonia had slapped her husband. She stalked off the dance floor and into the house, but Philetus simply smiled, told folks his wife was a little high-strung, and cut in on Lolly so he could dance with Honey. Pickle and Charlotte glared at Philetus and then went to find Caledonia.
After the cake was cut and served, it was time for the brides to throw their bouquets. Louetta, Ima Jean, Butterbean, Maddy Mack, Charlotte, and Honey all grouped together.
“On the count of three,” Tess said, turning away from the single girls. “One. Two. Three.” The bouquets flew over Martha Maye and Tess’s head, into the clump of females.
Honey dove in front of Ima Jean and caught one bouquet, and Butterbean jumped straight up in the air and caught the other one.
“Uh-oh,” Johnny said. “That girl is gonna be trouble, I can tell.”
“Johnny, why don’t you make your announcement now,” Martha Maye suggested, pulling on his sleeve.
“Okay. I’d like to announce that Butterbean will not be dating until she reaches the age of thirty.”
Everyone laughed and Martha Maye nudged him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, Mrs. Butterfield, here goes.” He kissed her, then clapped his hands together. “‘Scuse me, everyone.”
Ima Jean put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Now all eyes were on Johnny.
“I have an announcement to make. I want everybody to know that not only do I love Martha Maye, but I love our daughter, too, and I’m going to be such a proud father.”
A table of church ladies gasped, and one of them said, “Oh law, Martha Maye’s with child.”
Johnny’s face flushed bright red, and he quickly said, “No, I don’t mean that. No, no, no, no, no!”
“Well, what do you mean, boy?” Clive said. “Spit it out.”
“What I mean to say is, in about a month it will be all legal—I’m adopting Butterbean.”
Everyone looked at Butterbean, who looked stunned.
“What’s the matter, Butterbean? I thought that would make you happy,” Martha Maye said, rubbing her daughter’s back.
“Well,” Butterbean gulped. “I am happy. It’s just . . . it’s just . . . ”
“What? What is it, Bean?” Johnny asked, grabbing her hands and kneeling in front of her, his face full of concern.
“My name. Everybody’s going to call me Butterbean Butterfield.”
I am so thankful for my first readers: Liz Metz, Robert Hoffman, Carmen Pacheco, and Tim Mallory. Their suggestions, enthusiasm, and support were vital to the finis
hed product.
Thank you to my editor, Lindsey Alexander, for polishing the manuscript and cleaning up my mistakes, and to my proofreader, Ellen Mansoor Collier, who caught the nits.
Thank you to John Charles Gibbs, who allowed me to use his painting, Southern Home (© www.gibbsgallery.com), for the cover art. His Southern home perfectly matched my vision of Martha Maye’s house.
I’m grateful to know Emily Mah Tippetts of E.M. Tippetts Book Designs. Her help in designing the book covers and formatting the books kept me from going crazy. Thank you, Emily.
Thank you to Tricia Drammeh and Ellen Mansoor Collier for their friendship and for saving me money on mental health bills.
Thank you to my sons Jake and Michael and my daughter-in-law Liz for their love and support. There’s never been a day when they were hooligans. Well, maybe one or two, but they’ve more than made up for it. As I said at the beginning of the book, they are my heroes.
Finally, thank you to the readers of this book. I am honored that you spent your money and time on my work. If you liked the book, I hope you will consider leaving a review online.
If you haven’t already, I hope you’ll check out book one in the series, Murder & Mayhem in Goose Pimple Junction. And watch for Rogues & Rascals in Goose Pimple Junction, coming soon.
Read other books by Amy Metz
Amy Metz taught first grade before her sons, Jake and Michael, came along. Being their mom was her dream job, but now that they are grown, her new dream is to write books. When she’s not writing, Amy loves photography, baking, reading, and sweet tea. She spends her days in Goose Pimple Junction and her nights in Louisville, Kentucky. Online you can find her at her blog, A Blue Million Books, and her website. She can be reached at: [email protected] and would love to hear from you.
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This is a work of fiction. All names and characters are either invented or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 Amy Metz
All rights reserved.
Published by Southern Ink Press, an imprint of Blue Publications, 2014.
1st Edition
2nd volume in the Goose Pimple Junction mystery series.
Printed in the United States of America
Cover by John Charles Gibbs. Image © www.gibbsgallery.com
Cover design and Interior design and formatting by E.M. Tippets Book Designs
www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com
SUMMARY: Life is once again turned upside down for the residents of Goose Pimple Junction with the arrival of hooligans in the form of a philandering husband intent on getting his wife back, another murderer loose in town, a stalker intent on frightening Martha Maye, and a thief who’s stealing the town blind. The new chief of police has his hands full trying to fight crime and his feelings for a woman in need of a hero.
ISBN-13: 978-0989714044
ISBN-10: 0989714047
Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by Amy Metz
Dedication
Prologue
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright Notice
