Tacked to Death

Tacked to Death

Michele Scott

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Michele Scott

Smashwords Edition, License
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Praise for

Saddled With
Trouble

"Filled with good murder suspects along
with enough twists and turns, allowing the reader to guess and
guess again throughout the novel."

—MyShelf.com

"So well written…A great cozy…There are
so many wonderful red herrings that it will keep you guessing until
the end. Terrific plot and characters really add to the reading
experience. I highly recommend this book."

—The Best Reviews

"A pleasant and fast read. Her
characters are likeable and the setting is interesting. I'm looking
forward to her next Michaela Bancroft
mystery…Recommended."

—Armchair Interviews

"A great cozy for animal
lovers…Michaela is an engaging character."

—Gumshoe Review

Praise for Michele Scott's

Wine Lover's Mysteries

"All the sparkle, complexity, and
romance of a fine champagne."

—Nancy Fairbanks, author of Turkey
Flambé

"A perfect blend of murder and
page-turning fiction!"

—Holly Jacobs, author of Confessions of
a Party Crasher

"Edgy and suspenseful."

—Romantic Times

"A superb amateur-sleuth tale starring
an upbeat heroine and a fabulous prime suspect."

—Midwest Book Review

"So many wonderful characters, and the
California wine country is such a fabulous backdrop for this
series. I loved this book."

—The Best Reviews

"An amateur sleuth…readers will grow to
love."

—The Mystery Reader

"A scrumptious tale…Many twists from
beginning to end. Michele Scott is a delightful author. I only hope
her next book comes out quickly! I'm ready and waiting."

—Roundtable Reviews

The Horse Lover's Mysteries by Michele
Scott

SADDLED WITH TROUBLE

DEATH REINS IN

TACKED TO DEATH

The Wine Lover's Mysteries by Michele
Scott

MURDER UNCORKED

MURDER BY THE GLASS

SILENCED BY SYRAH

Thank You to the best writing coach
around,

Mike Sirota.

You've been along for the
ride

and never let me give up on
myself.

This one is for you, Yoda!

Cheers,

Kid

One

The man standing across from Michaela
Bancroft gave her the creeps. Sterling Taber was handsome by most
women's standards: He had that tall-and-dark thing going on with
brooding brown—almost black—eyes, his cheekbones were something
Michelangelo would have been proud to sculpt, and his longish black
hair hung slightly in front of his eyes. He'd been voted Coachella
Valley's most eligible bachelor and Michaela had heard the word
mysterious used in regard to him. Her word was
repulsive.

Sterling set the ropes on the
glass-topped case, which inside held equestrian-related jewelry and
various sets of spurs and silver belt buckles. Michaela and her
friend Camden had recently delved into the venture of owning and
running a tack store. Today was not only opening day, but Camden
had convinced Michaela that an accompanying fashion show and
charity polo match would make this an opening to remember, an event
even.

"So, isn't it true that you rope?"
Sterling asked.

"No. I rein." If he'd listened at all
to her in the past few months, he would've known exactly what
Michaela did. She'd spent plenty of time around Sterling as of
late. He was one of the bigwigs on the polo team, and in less than
an hour she'd be on the field playing against him in the charity
event.

"That's right. Reiner. You look pretty
good up on a polo pony. Good technique." He fiddled with the ropes.
"I like watching the ropers. Real cowboys, those guys."

"Yes, they have great technique."
Michaela narrowed her eyes, wishing he'd buy the ropes and get on
with it.

"You plan on continuing with polo when
this thing is over?"

She almost laughed at the thought. "No.
It's been fun and hopefully we raise a lot of money for the
autistic riding center, but I don't plan to continue."

He snapped his fingers and pointed at
her. "Right. You run that place. That handicapped riding
place."

She nodded. "It's for kids with
autism."

"Handicapped" was not really how she
saw the kids with whom she worked. They had special needs, sure,
but they were capable, loving children, and just the way he'd said
the word handicapped, as if it were a bad one, bothered her. Again,
if he'd taken the time to listen when they'd had meetings regarding
today's event he'd be on top of it, but she got the feeling that he
knew all this already. If anything, he enjoyed this head game she
felt he was playing with her. She sighed.

"You sure do look good up there on
those ponies," he said again.

"Thanks. But I can't afford polo and
it's pretty rough." Granted, Michaela had inherited a large sum of
money and her uncle's ranch when he was killed, but much of it was
tied up in the ranch, establishing her center for the kids, and now
in the tack shop that Camden promised she'd run, since Michaela was
already busy with plenty of commitments. "Speaking of polo, we
should probably hurry up. You want to buy these?" She wasn't sure
what Sterling needed a set of ropes for. He wasn't exactly the
rugged cowboy type. She was trying hard to be nice, silently
reminding herself that this was a business she and Camden were
running and he was a paying customer.

Sterling leaned against the counter and
folded his arms. A large diamond in a ring on his finger caught her
eye. It was on his right hand, and for some reason it only annoyed
Michaela even further that he was there. Show-off. He winked at
her. "You bet. I've got some plans with these. You know that there
are other things that ropes can be used for besides steers." He
winked at her, held up the ropes, and set them back
down.

She didn't comment. She picked the
ropes up off the counter and scanned the price into the computer.
Sterling handed her a credit card and she slid it through. It came
back denied. She put it through again—still denied.

"Is there a problem?" he
asked.

"Do you have another card?"

"Why?"

She felt her face flush. "This one's
been denied."

"That couldn't be. Put it through
again."

"I put it through twice
already."

"You did it wrong then."

"No, I didn't."

"The card is fine. I own nine polo
ponies; I think my card works. It's your machine."

From the back room, where the office
and kitchen were located, Michaela heard raised voices. She
recognized them immediately and knew she needed to put out a fire,
because the two who were arguing were not exactly the most amicable
of personalities. She tossed Sterling the ropes. "Here, take them.
They're yours." She was done dealing with him.

She started out from behind the counter
as a smug smile spread across his face. "See you on the field. I'm
looking forward to it."

She walked quickly past him feeling
like she'd just seen a cockroach crawl across the floor.

Michaela found the cause of the
commotion in the kitchen.

"Oh no, no, no! I don't want spaghetti,
Pepe. You can't do this to me!" Camden tossed her copper-colored
tresses behind her shoulders and screamed at the rotund, older
Italian man. He appeared to be matching her temper for temper, with
his arms crossed and a look on his face that said he didn't care
one iota about Camden's complaints. "You promised me that we would
have veal scaloppine and chicken parmigiana. You said it wouldn't
be a problem. I could kill you for this! Do you know how many
people are coming to this event? I can't believe I already paid you
up front!"

Michaela watched Camden's face contort
with rage. Next to Pepe Sorvino stood his twenty-year-old daughter,
Lucia. It was hard not to notice that Lucia turned heads when she
entered a room with her pale green eyes, long, wavy dark hair and
voluptuous body—a young Sophia Loren in the making. She stood about
Michaela's height at five feet six inches and she could see by the
fire in the young woman's eyes that she was about to explode, along
with her father.

"You didn't pay my father enough. Not
for all these people."

"Wait a minute," Michaela interrupted.
"What's the problem?" They would need to get it solved sooner
rather than later. Sorvino's was catering the Sunday afternoon
event, and people would be arriving shortly expecting hors
d'oeuvres and champagne while they watched the polo match and a
catered lunch during the fashion show.

"The problem is," Camden shouted,
"these two are trying to rip us off."

Lucia took an aggressive step toward
Camden. "Whatever. I don't think so. You're a cheap ass. That's the
problem."

Camden pulled an arm back. Michaela
grabbed it before she had a chance to swing.

"Did you see that?" Pepe said, his
Italian accent growing thicker in line with his anger.

Michaela placed a hand on Camden's
shoulder. "Why don't you take a breather? Let me work this
out."

Camden held up a finger, her face the
color of her hair. Michaela shook her head at her best friend, and
then nodded her toward the front door. Camden glared at Pepe and
his daughter, but heeded Michaela's advice and left. "Go see
Dwayne," Michaela suggested, knowing that her assistant trainer and
Camden's fiancé was helping set up the tables for the lunch
outside. If anyone could calm her down it would be him, with his
Hawaiian philosophy and mellow attitude.

"I cannot work with her. She's crazy.
You see how she yelling at me, and swearing at me, she saying she
gonna kill me!" Pepe took his index finger and made the loopy sign
around the side of his head. "Crazy!"

Michaela took a step back. "Listen,
Pepe, I agree that my friend can be a bit
temperamental—"

"A bit temperamental?" Lucia said.
"She's a bitch. We're not doing this thing, and we're keeping your
deposit money."

"Wait a minute," Michaela
said.

"What's going on?" Mario Sorvino,
Pepe's son, walked in with a boxful of tomatoes in his arms. "Oh
great. My sister and father giving you a hard time?"

Michaela mustered a smile. Could it be
there was a levelheaded individual amongst this clan? Mario set the
box down on the counter and put an arm around Lucia, whom he
towered over. He was definitely one of the tallest Italian guys
Michaela had ever seen—long but muscular, his dark hair slicked
back into a ponytail, and an apron covering his barrel chest.
"Bella, run along and be a good kid. Leave Michaela alone. We'll
work this out."

Lucia opened her mouth to say
something, but Mario cut her off. "Go. There're tables to be set."
She stood her ground a second longer. "Now!"

Pepe watched as his daughter skulked
away. Mario looked at his dad and shook his head. "Papa, she
doesn't need to be trying to run things. She's a stupid kid, and
you give her too much freedom. Now, what's the issue
here?"

Pepe frowned at his son but didn't
retort. It appeared as if Mario Sorvino pulled the strings in the
family.

"That other lady, that Camden, she's a
hothead and she doesn't want to pay what they owe us." He pointed
at Michaela. "We gonna make spaghetti and that's it."