Dying for a Dude (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 4) (34 page)
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Authors: Cindy Sample
Tags: #A Laurel McKay Mystery
“Fletch’s preliminary hearing is set for next week. His list of crimes is longer than your Gran’s ‘to do’ list for me.”
My appetite evaporated as I thought of the poor victims. “How does a man go from serving the law to breaking it?”
Hank shrugged. “Fletch wouldn’t discuss any details about Doug, but he admitted Spencer surprised him while he was digging in the hotel. He panicked and grabbed the first thing he found which was that piece of lumber. He couldn’t believe he killed Spencer with one blow. I guess when he looked out the window to see if anyone on Main Street heard anything, he got the idea to string Spencer up from that old dummy.”
Hank reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “You saved me, Laurel. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
I tried to think of a polite way to tell my ex-husband that butting out of my love life would be a nice start, but he beat me to it.
“I realize you and Hunter have something going, and that it’s definitely over between us.” Hank stared at the partially eaten hamburger on his plate. When he looked up, his eyes were misty. “And I need to get on with my own life. I just want to thank you for being there for me when I needed you.”
“Hank, you know I’ll always care about you.” My eyes began to water, so I switched subjects. “That was a heck of a horseback rescue you did for Gran.”
Hank grinned and dipped his head. “All in a day’s work, Ma’am. I think she’s getting a kick out of her notoriety.”
One of the videos posted on the internet had turned Gran into an Octogenarian YouTube sensation. Next thing we knew she’d have her own Vlog.
“You weren’t any slouch yourself driving that stagecoach,” Hank said to me. “You could be the next Charley Parkhurst.”
My ex was full of compliments today, I thought. Now he’d just compared me to a one-eyed female stagecoach driver who everyone thought was a man.
“How’s Scott Shelton doing?” Hank asked me.
“Much better. I returned some horse tack I borrowed from Vicky Parsons, his next door neighbor, so I stopped at his house to thank him. He said despite getting shot, the chase was the highlight of the Wagon Train for him this year.”
“Since he was one of your primary suspects, weren’t you worried about going off with him on the stagecoach?”
“Scott made it on my list, but, despite having motive, I never could picture him killing Spencer. I since found out how he got the money to buy back his six shooters. The man not only raises horses, he likes to gamble on them. Abe told me Scott won a Pick Six at Golden Gate Fields that netted him eight thousand dollars.”
I looked out the restaurant window and spied Janet Spencer on the arm of the new District Six Supervisor, Chad Langdon. I pointed them out to Hank.
“Is it easier working for Janet than Spencer?” I asked.
He chuckled. “She’s a nice woman. Not to speak poorly of the dead, but I think she’s much happier these days. And she pays on time, so I’ve been able to make weekly installments to reimburse Abe for having enough faith in me to pay the $10,000 fee for my bond.”
I smiled thinking of the kind merchant who’d come to Hank’s financial rescue. Abe had been appalled to discover Fletch had sold him stolen merchandise. Not to mention he’d killed two people.
“I’m still curious about that deed I saw granting Chad’s ownership to Spencer,” I said, “but I guess that’s between Janet and Chad at this point. Did she ever find out who made those threatening phone calls?”
“The calls were made by Phil McKinley, your neighborhood builder and bully,” replied Hank. “Janet was still concerned, so Chad did a little investigating. He is not happy with his former partner.”
I lifted my brows at Hank. “Former?”
“Yup, Chad’s severed all ties with that partnership. I think the man has the potential to become a great asset to our county.”
“He’s definitely one smart politician,” I said. “He felt so bad about my near-death experience at his winery that he dropped off a case of their reserve chardonnay for me. Now that’s a way to win my vote.”
The following evening Hank and Gran arranged to take the kids up to Lake Tahoe for an overnight visit. The door had barely squeaked shut behind them when I called Tom and invited him over for dinner. It had been weeks since we’d spent an evening alone together.
The criminal community appeared to be vacationing, so Tom arranged for Kristy to stay with his parents. After dinner, we nestled on my patio glider, rocking side by side under a starlit sky.
Tom had surprised me by arriving with a guitar case and the intent to serenade me under the stars. I was looking forward to it.
At least I hoped I was.
I leaned back into the cushion as he plunked out a few chords and tuned his new instrument.
“I didn’t realize you played the guitar,” I said, curious why he’d never shared his musical talent with me.
“I played through college, but when I joined the force, I never seemed to have the time. I finally gave my Gibson to a friend over twenty years ago.”
“Where did this one come from?”
He shook his head and a swatch of dark hair fell over his eye, giving him a rakish rock star look. “Believe it or not, I was on my way to the Hangtown Hotel to check on something when I walked by Main Street Music. The guitar sat center stage in the window display. It seemed to reach out and touch me.”
I could relate to that sensation although when it came to being touched, I would take Tom over the guitar.
He strummed a few notes then stopped.
“It’s been a difficult month,” he said.
“Challenging,” I replied, “on so many levels.”
“Adversity can sometimes strengthen a relationship.” Tom’s comment as well as his dark eyes seemed to be searching for some type of reassurance from me.
I rested my hand on his thigh while I searched for the correct response. “I know how frustrating this has been for you, but I think Hank’s situation brought him and me closer together.” I stopped as I sensed Tom withdrawing from me. “Not closer romantically because that is and has been over for a very long time. But we’ll remain as a divorced couple who will be able to parent well together. I sincerely hope that is something you can live with, because it’s important to me to have you in my life.”
He slid a few inches closer. Instead of answering my question, he began to serenade me in a strong baritone. Tom was right. His singing combined with the guitar’s melodious notes delivered musical magic.
Tom ended his stirring rendition of Toby Keith’s “You Shouldn’t Kiss Me Like This” and followed it with a heart-pulsating, fireworks-blazing kiss.
“You’re amazing,” I said breathlessly. “Do you have any more secret hobbies you’d like to share with me?”
He threw me a sexy half-smile. “Maybe.”
“Am I one of your hobbies?” I asked flirtatiously.
The light from the full moon made Tom’s dark eyes glitter. He rose from the glider and carefully placed the guitar back in its case. Then he crouched down on one knee in front of me.
“You could be a hobby,” he said, reaching for my palm, his expression as serious as I’d ever seen it. “Or you could be the woman I spend the rest of my life with. The decision is yours because as far as I’m concerned, I’m dying to be your…”
My mouth opened wide, dumbstruck for once in my life. He leaned over, his soft lips barely brushing mine, before he completed his sentence.
“Dude.”
THE END
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 cup quick oats
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
3/4 cup white sugar
2 large eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
1 cup salted butter
1+ cup chocolate chips (any flavor you choose)
1/2 cup toffee bits or to taste
1/2 cup coconut (optional)
Bake 350 10- 12 min or until browned - transfer to rack to cool
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks and hugs to the awesome friends who willingly read my early painful drafts: Cathy and Carl Allyn, Jonathan Corbett, Karen Charlton, Lisa Dane, Bonnie Holbrook, and Jana Rossi. As always, my critique group was there to answer my countless emails: Kathy Asay, Pat Foulk, Rae James, and Terri Judd. Four of my favorite authors, Heather Haven, Liz Jasper, Linda Lovely and Mary Beth Magee chimed in with wonderful suggestions. Thanks to the staff at David Girard Vineyards. What a great place to do research! And thanks to my creative friend, Darlene Neeley, who loves to help me plot.
A special thanks to the legal, medical and professional experts, who let me bombard them with questions: Kimberly Gin, Sacramento County Coroner, Lt. Tim Becker, El Dorado County Sheriff’s Office and Ron Dosh, Esq. I’d like to acknowledge the wonderful volunteers at the El Dorado County Historical Museum who were a huge help.
The support and encouragement I receive from my fellow Sisters in Crime and the authors who belong to Sacramento Valley Rose, California Writer’s Club and NCPA helps to keep me motivated when my spirits flag.
Thanks to my editors, Baird Nuckolls and Kathy Asay, and my cover artist, Karen Phillips, who is as amazing as she is patient. I had so much fun tabulating the votes for the cover contest. Thank you, Christine Rippey, for your romantic song suggestion. It was perfect.
I am so grateful to everyone in the Placerville community who helped with my research and who continue to support my writing endeavors. The Wagon Train Association just celebrated sixty-five years on the trail. What an awesome group of people. Keep those wagons rolling!
A special thanks to those fans from around the world whose emails make this journey so much fun. It’s not always easy to wake up in the morning and create an imaginary world. Your smiles and words of encouragement make it the best job ever!
Cindy Sample is a former mortgage banking CEO who decided plotting murder was more entertaining than plodding through paperwork. She retired to follow her lifelong dream of becoming a mystery author.
Her experiences with online dating sites fueled the concept for
Dying for a Date
, the first in her national bestselling Laurel McKay mysteries. She based the sequel,
Dying for a Dance
, a finalist for the 2012 LEFTY award for best humorous mystery, on her adventures in the glamorous world of ballroom dancing. Cindy thought her protagonist, Laurel McKay, needed a vacation in Hawaii, which resulted in
Dying for a Daiquiri
, a finalist for both the 2014 LEFTY Award and the 2014 Silver Falchion Award. Never has research been so much fun.
Now hold on to your hats for a wild ride as Laurel returns to Hangtown in
Dying for a Dude.
The West will never be the same.
Cindy is past president of the Sacramento chapter of Sisters in Crime. She has served on the boards of the Sacramento Opera and YWCA. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Romance Writers of America. Cindy has two wonderful adult children who live too far away. She loves chatting with readers so feel free to contact her on any forum.
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