The reverberating bangs shake Melanie Perkin's nerves. Either someone's aiming at her truck, or they don't know fireworks are supposed to go upward. Could things get any worse?
Yes. The next day she discovers a dead body in the barn on her late parents' farm, Sheriff's Deputy Granger's gun pointed at the chest of a primary suspect – someone she holds dear.
Illegal merchandise flooding the small Iowa town of River's Edge, upcoming Fourth of July activities, and a half-finished manuscript all hinder her determined efforts to solve the crime, before an innocent person is convicted of murder.
In this, the second novel in beloved, cozy mystery writer Elaine Orr's River's Edge series, the author once again offers humor, believable characters and tight prose as she carries the reader to an exciting climax. Those who follow her Jolie Gentil series will find themselves right at home.
You won’t want to miss this one!
[Locked in a closet by a murderer, Melanie tries to find a way out.]
"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"
I said nothing. From having accidentally butt-dialed the dispatchers a couple of times, I knew they had to call back if you disconnected.
"Sir, ma'am? Can I help you?"
The voice was that of a woman. I tried to picture her face. She'd been hired only last year. I pictured someone in her mid-forties with a severe bun and very starched uniform collar.
"Please say something."
I blew into the phone.
"Do you need assistance? What is your emergency?"
If only I were a Star Trek telepath. I realized she'd have to be, too, and almost giggled.
Oh, crud! I needed to mute the ringer! The light of the phone let me start the process. Just before I finished, the phone gave half a ring.
Running footsteps came from the kitchen.
"You bitch! You have a phone!" He stopped outside the closet.
"Yes, but I didn't answer it."
Mister Tibbs had apparently left the bedroom while I dialed. She now followed him into the room. She didn't bark. He must have made friends with her. Would it be harder to kill a dog you petted?
He had forgotten to lower his voice, but did it now. "I'm standing behind this door. I'm going to open it an inch. You keep your eyes shut and slide that phone out on the floor."
I pushed the phone's Off button, so he couldn't see my last call. "Okay. Whatever you say."
The door creaked as he opened it. I needed to put oil on the hinges. Who gives a damn about hinges?!
I stooped and pushed the phone out. I leaned over, hoping to see the guy's shoes, but all I saw was thick tread. They must be boots. So, probably not an accountant or doctor.
Mister Tibbs gave a small yip.
"Her name is Mister Tibbs."
He pushed the door shut and walked out of the room.