Unbelievable

by Cindy Blackburn

  “Something in my gut told me to get over here.” He waved his free hand at me. “Me and Miss Cassie talked about that. Always trust your gut. That’s what we say.”

  Gabe snarled at me. “Do you ever shut up?”

  Oden raised his free hand to point to Gabe. “Sheriff Gabe was snarling just like that when I got here.”

  Gabe snarled at Oden. “Your stupid goats aren’t here.”

  “But I didn’t know that.” Oden glanced around the room. “I was looking for the gals when I heard some commotion in here.” He nodded at Evert. “Something in my gut told me to see if I could help.”

  “About then, I got here.” That was Maxine. “Gabe was showing off his gun to the three of them.” She indicated the trio on the couch and then glared at Gabe. “You want a gun? I’ll show you a gun.” She nodded at hers.

  “But Maxy,” Fanny said. “How did you know we were in trouble?”

  “Yes, Maxy,” I said. “I’m a little curious about that myself.”

  Maxine cleared her throat. “I might have overheard some tiny little bits of your conversation this evening.”

  “You spied on us,” Dad said.

  “Somebody had to!” Maxine’s tone changed considerably. “None of you seemed in any hurry whatsoever. Pussy-footing around while Mrs. Baumgarten was in trouble!” She shook her head in disgust. “I grabbed my i-Tablet, but then something in my gut told me to take this instead.” She held up her shotgun, and everyone but Fanny jumped ten feet in the air.

  Maxine looked a little miffed. “I do know how to use it. Daddy taught me to shoot when I turned sixteen.” She frowned at her weapon. “I’m sure I haven’t forgotten.”

  My father chimed in. “And this,” he said, “is how Charlie and I found them.”

  “I wonder why Rose and Ruby aren’t here,” Oden said. “The gals love a party.”

  ***

  I nudged Oliver, and he stepped forward. “Gabe Cleghorn, you are under arrest for the murder of Travis La Bar—”

  “What!?” Gabe swung around and aimed his gun at Oliver. “What?” he repeated, and several others had the same question.

  Joe reminded them Oliver is our high bailiff. “He has the authority.”

  “Yeah, right,” Gabe said. “Got a set of handcuffs in those pajamas, Mr. High Bailiff?”

  About then, Sarah Bliss barged in, with P.T. Dent close behind. “Deputy Dent brought handcuffs,” she said. “Didn’t you, P. T.?”

  Gabe re-aimed his gun. “You’re both fired.”

  “Just try to fire me,” Sarah hissed. “I promise you, I won’t go quietly.” She raised her purse and shook it at him. “I’ve been keeping records.”

  Gabe blinked at the purse.

  “Oh yeah, babe. Of all those drugs you’ve been confiscating—confiscating, but not reporting.” She glanced around the room and assured us her records were accurate.

  No one argued.

  She tossed me her purse. “The print-outs are in there, Cassie. You want to get them?”

  I pulled out the Excel spreadsheets, and Joe and I glanced at the charts while Sarah summarized the details.

  “Your ass is nailed,” she told Gabe. “I’ve been too worried about my job to do anything until I had solid proof.” She grinned at me. “I think tonight should do it.”

  About then, Lindsey Luke walked in carrying a small suitcase.

  She had gotten wet in the rain, and her Tee-shirt clung to her. And for a minute there, it was pure pandemonium as every man reacted. Evert turned bright red and whispered a ‘If you know what I mean,’ to no one in particular, Oden stood up and sat back down a few dozen times, Joe stuttered a few dozen ‘Why-why- whys,’ Deputy Dent dropped his handcuffs, and my father dropped his rifle. Gabe stuck out his beer belly and strutted around in a circle like some kind of deranged rooster. But unfortunately, he didn’t drop his gun. Fortunately, Oliver didn’t drop his either. His hands were a little shaky, but our high bailiff held on tight.

  What a shocker, Fanny caught on. “Is that you, Love?” she asked.

  Lindsey offered a small ‘Hello’ and told the crowd she’d had trouble sleeping. “I was worried about Fanny being alone with Travis’s killer still on the loose. I’m here to keep her—” she gazed around the room, “—company.”

  She located Gabe amongst the crowd. “If the twin sister didn’t kill him, who did?”

  Gabe’s mouth fell open, but no words emerged.

  “He did,” I said loud and clear. “Gabe killed Travis.”

  Lindsey’s head snapped in my direction, but Gabe’s actions were more critical. He shouted something obscene and took aim at me. I remember seeing a mass of people and dogs leap toward the gun as my knees buckled.

  Chapter 52

  Sarah Bliss lifted me up. I guess I didn’t get shot. Neither did Sarah, my father, Charlie, Evert, Miss Rusty, Oden, Fanny, Lindsey, Maxine, Deputy Dent, or Oliver.

  Have I forgotten anyone? Oh, yes. Gabe. Gabe didn’t get shot, either.

  Joe, however.

  I leapt across the room and landed beside him.

  “I hate guns,” he told me as I knelt down.

  “You can still talk!”

  Sarah knelt down with me, and we took a look at Joe’s shoulder.

  “It looks pretty minor,” she said.

  “I think it’s called a superficial flesh wound,” I agreed.

  “Perfect,” Joe told Sarah. “I take a bullet for her, and she calls it superficial.”

  ***

  But back to Gabe.

  My father, Evert, Oden, Charlie, and Miss Rusty had him pinned against the wall. His hands were down at his side, but he still held onto his gun. Meanwhile the barrel of Oliver’s rifle was poised a mere inch away from his forehead.

  I was glad I was down there on the floor with Joe, but Maxine seemed sturdy enough. Remarkably, if you ask me, she still stood in the corner, her rifle aimed in the right direction. “Where is my i-Tablet when I need it most?” she asked.

  About then, Sterling arrived.

  “Jason Sterling, Vermont State Police,” he announced as he entered. “Everyone freez—” He caught sight of Joe. “Are you okay?”

  Joe gave me a withering look. “I’m told it’s superficial,” he said, but Sterling had already changed his focus.

  He stepped over us, and slipped past Lindsey without batting an eyelash. “What is it with this town and goats?” he asked the crowd.

  The gang parted, and he faced Gabe. He held out a small plastic bag, and Gabe dropped the gun. “I took Route 19 at about ninety miles an hour to get here. Ms. Baxter made it sound kind of urgent.”

  “She’s nuts,” Gabe said.

  “Wacko and Looney Tunes,” Sterling agreed. “The whole time I’m praying I don’t meet a moose. I make it to Elizabeth Circle and almost hit a goat instead. You guys have a wild herd of them?”

  Oden excused himself and ran out, but the room was still chock full of people, and Sterling glanced around. Some of us were in pajamas, but only one of us was in uniform, and just so happened to be holding a set of handcuffs.

  “May I borrow those?” he asked Deputy Dent, and they traded. Sterling got the handcuffs, and P.T. got the bag with Gabe’s gun. “Tag it, please,” Sterling said, and then he addressed Gabe. “Gabriel Cleghorn, you are under arrest—”

  Sarah stood up and interrupted, “Mr. Earle was already in the middle of that, sir.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I stood up. “Oliver Earle is our high bailiff.”

  “He has the authority.” Joe was also struggling to his feet.

  “We Elizabethans think he should arrest Gabe,” my father added, and everyone but Gabe agreed.

  Sterling was muttering something about the quirkiest of quirky Vermont towns when Fanny sat up straight and gasped.

  “Oh, no!” she said, and about then the rest of us heard the crash.

  Make that several crashes.

  Actually, make that a lot of crashes. The sou
nds of many fenders bending in domino-effect fashion.

  “It’s my fault.” Sarah raised her hand. “I called them before I left the house. I thought we might need help.”

  About then, two of Hilleville’s finest appeared in the doorway.

  “We’re here to help,” the cop carrying the hubcap announced.

  Epilogue

  I learned a lot that summer.

  First of all, it’s best to leave some things, such as the Pearson sisters, alone. I hear life at the Fox Cove Inn is still pretty volatile, but I’m steering clear and letting the ghost-guys help Arlene and Pru sort out their differences.

  My father has gotten a little better at minding his own business, too. He lets me sleep until almost six, almost every morning, and only asks me how things are going with Joe once or twice a day.

  Maybe Dad lost interest in my love life when Chance Dooley’s heated up. Good old Chance finally figured out how to coax Evadeen Deyo out of the Whoozit Loozit.

  Turns out she had never seen the other side of the Crystal Void, and in fact, had never even left the confines of the Hollow Galaxy. Chance promised to taxi her anywhere she wanted to go, anytime she wanted to go, in exchange for her mechanical expertise. With several intergalactic itineraries in mind, Evadeen went straight to work on Chance’s propulsion pistons and got the turbo thrust thing working just so.

  This, of course, brings us to Chance and Evadeen’s sex scenes. What a shocker, Lucille Saxby continues to help Bobby with that particular facet of his stories.

  Help—giving it and getting it—I learned a lot about that, too.

  As far as giving help, Dad and I and a few friends have stayed in touch with Nina Finch. We helped her navigate through some medical decisions, and she has major surgery scheduled for next month. The heart specialist is in Los Angeles, and you’ll never guess who stepped forward to pay her travel expenses. Ross the Boss! If the guy ever runs for governor again, I might have to vote for him.

  Well. Let’s just say I’ll think about voting for him. At least for a minute.

  But back to Lake Elizabeth. I’m the new caller at Lake Bess Bingo. I volunteered the night Celia Stump quit, and Maurice Gallipeau was so excited he did a back flip-somersault combination off the stage at Town Hall. My Bingo-calling skills probably aren’t worth that much enthusiasm, but the Bingo crowd seems happy so far. They keep telling me I’m a local hero. That is, when they’re not reminding me I’m Looney Tunes.

  Accepting help from others was a tougher lesson for me, but I made huge progress on that front when I asked some friends and neighbors to help me paint the Jolly Green Giant.

  First up was Howard Bapp at Hilleville Hardware. Howard helped me match the Kelly green of the Jolly Green Giant just so. And yes, of course the old Tumbleton place—make that the new Baxter place—stayed green.

  Dad and I supplied pizza from Santucci’s, Hollis Klotz loaned us an extension ladder that would reach to Whoozit if need be, and a bunch of us Elizabethans painted the giant in one weekend. Turns out Oliver and Joe like heights. While they worked on the turret and third floor, the rest of us managed the lower two-thirds. Evert and I took charge of the second floor, and Dad and Maxine the first. Lindsey Luke painted most of the yellow trim, the Gallipeaus helped out wherever needed, and Oden Poquette picked up a paint brush and a slice of pizza anytime he ran by.

  This was often, since Rose and Ruby were fascinated by the proceedings. As were Charlie and Miss Rusty. The animals supervised the painters, and Fanny Baumgarten kept an eye on the animals. Well, maybe not an eye. But she managed to keep them out of the pizza.

  Have I forgotten anyone?

  Oh, yes. The FN451z serenaded us the entire weekend.

  ***

  The last lesson hit me as the final coat of paint was drying.

  After the brushes had been cleaned, the ladders taken down, and everyone else left, Joe suggested we take a spin on the pontoon boat to see how the giant looked from the water.

  Dad begged off, but Charlie, Joe, and I convinced him he should see the Jolly Green Giant in all its brilliant and bright splendor with the sun setting behind it. And so the four of us climbed aboard.

  We watched the paint dry and the sun set, we floated around with the ducks and Canada Geese, we listened to the loons, and eventually we watched the moon rise over the mountains.

  I sat back and smiled. “Let’s face it,” I told the guys. “Lake Bess is a good place to live.”

  The End

  Sad to say goodbye to Cassie and company? Never fear! A new Cassie Baxter mystery is coming your way once Cassie figures out the culprit in Unexpected. Available through Amazon in late 2015.

  Also coming up in 2015, a brand new Cue Ball Mystery, Five Spot. Be on the lookout!

  In the meantime, why not read the other Cue Ball Mysteries by Cindy Blackburn?

  Murder meets menopause. Take a guess which wins.

  The Cue Ball Mysteries

  Book One: Playing With Poison

  Pool shark Jessie Hewitt usually knows where the balls will fall and how the game will end. But when a body lands on her couch, and the cute cop in her kitchen accuses her of murder, even Jessie isn’t sure what will happen next. Playing With Poison is a cozy mystery with a lot of humor, a little romance, and far too much champagne.

  Book Two: Double Shot

  Jessie Hewitt thought her pool-hustling days were long gone. But when über-hunky cop Wilson Rye asks her to go undercover to catch a killer, she jumps at the chance to return to a sleazy poolroom. Jessie is confident she can handle a double homicide, but the doubly-annoying Wilson Rye is another matter altogether. What's he doing flirting with a woman half his age? Will Jessie have what it takes to deal with Tiffany La-Dee-Doo-Da Sass and solve the murders? Take a guess.

  Book Three: Three Odd Balls

  A romantic vacation for … five? This wasn’t exactly what Jessie and Wilson had in mind when they planned their trip to the tropics. But when Jessie’s delightfully spry mother, Wilson’s surfer dude son, and Jessie’s rabidly hyperactive New York agent decide to tag along the fun begins. What kind of trouble can these three oddest of odd balls possibly get into? Take a guess.

  Book Four: Four Play

  Bad news comes in … fours? For romance author and former pool shark Jessie Hewitt it does. She hasn’t written a decent sex scene in months, she hasn’t shot a decent game of eight ball all year, and don’t even ask about her supposed love life. Just when Jessie thinks things can’t get any worse, a body lands on her car. Altogether infuriating cop Wilson Rye suggests she concentrate on solving her other problems and leave the murder investigation to the experts. Does Jessie agree? Take a guess.

  Book Five: Five Spot

  At long last! Jessie Hewitt, a.k.a. Adele Nightingale, is about to be take her rightful spot in the Romance Writers Hall of Fame. Wilson Rye, much to his chagrin, has his own role to play at the meeting where Jessie will finally be inducted. But things don’t go exactly as planned. How can a conference named Happily Ever After take such a wrong turn? Take a guess.

  Five Spot: Available from Amazon, summer 2015.

  Ready to play with poison? Keep reading for a sneak peek at the first Cue Ball Mystery.

  Playing With Poison – Sneak Peek

  Chapter 1

  “Going bra shopping at age fifty-two gives new meaning to the phrase fallen woman,” I announced as I gazed at my reflection.

  “Oh, Jessie, you always say that.” Candy poked her head around the dressing room door and took a peek at the royal blue contraption she was trying to sell me. “Gosh, that looks great. It’s very flattering.”

  I lifted an unconvinced eyebrow. “Oh, Candy, you always say that.”

  “No really. I hope my figure looks that nice when I’m old.”

  Okay, so I took that as a compliment and agreed to buy the silly bra. And before she even mentioned them, I also asked for the matching panties. To know my neighbor Candy Poppe is to have a drawer full of completely
inappropriate, and often alarming, lace, silk, and satin undergarments.

  I got dressed and went out to the floor.

  “Temptation at Twilight giving you trouble?” she asked as she rang me up. Candy hasn’t known me long, but she does know me well. And she’s figured out I show up at Tate’s whenever writer’s block strikes.

  I sighed dramatically. “Plot plight.”

  “But you know you never have issues for very long, Jessie.” She wrapped my purchases in pink tissue paper and placed them in a pink Tate’s shopping bag. “Even after your divorce, remember? You came in, bought a few nice things, and went on home to finish Windswept Whispers.” She offered an encouraging nod. “So go home, put on this bra, and start writing.”

  I did as I was told, but wearing the ridiculous blue bra didn’t help after all. The page on my computer screen remained stubbornly blank no matter how hard I stared at it. I was deciding there must be better ways to spend a Saturday night when a knock on the door pulled me out of my funk.

  “Maybe it’s Prince Charming,” I said to my cat. Snowflake seemed skeptical, but I got up to answer anyway.

  Funny thing? It really was Prince Charming. I opened my door to find Candy Poppe’s handsome to a fault fiancé standing in the hallway. But Stanley wasn’t looking all that handsome. Without bothering to say hello, he pushed me aside, stumbled toward the couch, and collapsed. Prince Charming was sick.

  I rushed over to where he had invited himself to lie down and knelt beside him. “Stanley?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Candy,” he whispered, and then he died.

  He died?

  I blinked twice and told myself I was not seeing what I was seeing. “He’s just drunk,” I reassured Snowflake. “He passed out.”

  But then, why were his eyes open like that?

  I reached for his wrist. No pulse. I checked for breathing. Nope. I shook him and called his name a few times. Nothing.

  Nothing.

  The gravity of the situation finally dawned on me, and I jumped up. “CPR!” I shouted at the cat.