Nashville Noir

Table of Contents

 

OTHER BOOKSIN THE
MURDER, SHEWROTE SERIES

 

 

Manhattans & Murder
Rum & Razors
Brandy & Bullets
Martinis & Mayhem
A Deadly Judgment
A Palette for Murder
The Highland Fling Murders
Murder on the
QE2
Murder in Moscow
A Little Yuletide Murder
Murder at the Powderhorn Ranch
Knock ’Em Dead
Gin & Daggers
Trick or Treachery
Blood on the Vine
Murder in a Minor Key
Provence—To Die For
You Bet Your Life
Majoring in Murder
Destination Murder
Dying to Retire
A Vote for Murder
The Maine Mutiny
Margaritas & Murder
A Question of Murder
Coffee, Tea, or Murder?
Three Strikes and You’re Dead
Panning for Murder
Murder on Parade
A Slaying in Savannah
Madison Avenue Shoot
A Fatal Feast

OBSIDIAN
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,
Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124,
Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,
New Delhi - 110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632,
New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue,
Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First Printing, April 2010

Copyright © 2010 Universal City Studios Productions LLLP.
Murder, She Wrote
is a trademark and copyright of Universal Studios. All rights reserved.

Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to reprint from “Nashville Noir” lyrics
and music by David A. Stewart. Copyright © 2009. All rights reserved. International copyright
secured. Used by permission.
OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESSCATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Bain, Donald, 1935-
Nashville Noir: a Murder, She Wrote mystery: a novel/by Jessica Fletcher & Donald Bain.
p. cm.—Murder, she wrote)
“An Obsidian mystery.”
“Based on the Universal television series created by Peter S. Fischer, Richard Levinson &
William Link.”

eISBN : 978-1-101-40436-2

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

For “Men with Time”—good friends and luncheon companions for whom the art of conversation is alive and well.

A tip of the hat to:
Michael Barrett
Charles Flowers
Jeff Lasdon
Phil Leshin
Ken Marsolais
Michael Millius
Tom Molito
John Shearer

And to our recently departed sage, John Renwick.

We miss you, Johnny.

Finally to the women in our lives who keep threatening to form their own luncheon group, “Women Without Time.”

Nashville’s Metropolitan Police Department defines “professionalism” in law enforcement. Our special thanks to its public affairs manager, Don Aaron, who so graciously and freely answered all our questions, and took the time to show us the inner workings of this exemplary police department. And thanks also to Lt. “Big Pat” Taylor and Sgt. “Little Pat” Postiglione. We hope that the real officers won’t take offense that Jessica Fletcher solves the murder before our fictional officer does in the book. It seems to happen everywhere she goes.

 

Speaking of gracious law enforcement professionals, we’re deeply indebted to Lt. Thomas A. Walker of the Davidson County Sheriff’s Office. As charming as he is knowledgeable, Lt. Walker took us inside the Nashville penal system and demonstrated what an enlightened approach to incarceration can look like. And thanks also to Eric Bauder, manager of the processing unit downtown, who was so patient with our phone calls and questions.

 

In addition, we’d like to thank former police detective and fellow music lover Lee Lofland, author of
Police Procedure and Investigation, A Guide for Writers
, who was an invaluable source of procedural information.

 

Nashville is to country music songwriting what movies are to Hollywood. Debi Cochran is legislative director of the Nashville Songwriters Association International (NSAI), a dynamic organization of more than four thousand members that encourages, nurtures, teaches, and champions the creative act of writing a good song. Debi and her staff gave us a wonderful insight into how the Nashville music scene
really
works.

 

The collective wisdom and knowledge of those mentioned above is sprinkled liberally throughout
Nashville Noir.
We’re sure they’ll forgive us for having taken literary license at times with their information.

 

Very special thanks to our friend and award-winning songwriter David Stewart, whose song “Nashville Noir” was written especially for us and for this book. His lyrics appear at the beginning of this book. Plans for making the recording of “Nashville Noir” widely available were not finalized at the time the book was written. Information about it will be posted on my Web site at
www.donaldbain.com
.

Midnight
Waiting your turn at the open mike
An endless procession of guitars,
cowboy hats, young unknowns
A long way from home
Take care
Somebody’s watching from the
shadows out there
Is he the man that you’ve been hoping
to meet
Or the guy who puts the demon in
Demonbreun Street?

 

A little chill goes shooting down your
spine
And you’re not sure if it’s the good or
the bad kind
When the man says “Kid, I can make
you a star”
And you’ve gotten a little taste of
Nashville noir

 

One a.m.
Sitting and talking to your new best
friend
He’s telling you that he can open the
doors
Which anyone in this town would kill
for

 

A little chill goes shooting down your
spine
Your hand shakes as it reaches for the
dotted line
But the man says “Kid, I can make you
a star”
And you’ve gotten a little taste of
Nashville noir

 

Sometimes it’s dangerous
To want something so much
You don’t know what you’ll do

 

A little chill goes shooting down your
spine
And you’re not sure if it’s the good or
the bad kind
When the man says “Kid, I can make
you a star”
And you’ve gotten a little taste of
Nashville noir

Words & Music by David A. Stewart

C
indy Blaskowitz held the final note of her song, allowing it to fade away to a whisper. She raised her guitar, lowered it, and bowed. There was silence in the Cabot Cove High School auditorium. Then the hundred or so people in the audience burst into applause. Some stood, prompting others to do the same.

“Bravo!” someone shouted.

“Brava!” corrected Elsie Fricket, who stood by my side.

“Thank you,” Cindy said into the microphone, her face flush with emotion. “Thank you so much. Please sit down. There’s something I need to say.”

The clapping subsided and everyone took their seats.

Cindy cleared her throat a few times against the threat of tears. A tall, slender eighteen-year-old, she looked younger than her age, vulnerable and uncertain despite the accolades she’d received that evening. She wore a simple patterned brown-and-white dress with a high collar and a hem that reached her calves. Her cinnamon-colored hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail; the freckles on her pale face were especially prominent in the harsh glare of the spotlight.

She managed a smile and said, “You are the most wonderful people in the world. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for what you’re doing for me. I do know that I’ll try my very best to justify the faith you’re showing in me, and that if I make it big”—she paused—“
when
I make it big”—there was a rumble of warm laughter in the audience—“I’ll always remember that it was because of you.”

Now the tears flowed and the applause erupted again.

Following the performance, we gathered in a large room adjacent to the auditorium for pastries, coffee or tea, and soft drinks. I was talking with Cabot Cove’s mayor, Jim Shevlin, when Cindy’s mother, Janet, joined us.