“I’m calling the police!” the woman shouts before leaving and shutting us into the room once again.
“The police!” Tilly howls. “I can’t get arrested. I don’t want a record.”
“You already have a record,” Regina snips. “It’s me I’m worried about.” She tosses the bucket to the floor and at least eight good pieces scatter. “Let’s make a run for it.” She starts for the door, and I block her.
“That woman might have a gun,” I say. “Let’s try the window.”
We make a run for the window, and for the life of me, we can’t get it open.
“I can’t get it to budge,” Tilly cries. “My fingers are too greasy. This is all your fault, Regina!”
Regina growls right at her. “This is Bowie’s fault, you nitwit. Ever since she came into Starry Falls, people have been dropping like flies and getting arrested. The law of probability has dictated this is our turn. That’s what we get for tagging along on one of her illegal adventures. Let this be a lesson to you, Tilly. The next time Opal wants to hire a stranger, feel free to shoot on sight.”
“Enough talk about killing me,” I say, dropping to my knees. I’m about to scoop up the chicken before we storm our way out of here—I’d hate to leave a greasy pile of poultry behind in Kelly’s office. I grab the bucket and spot a single leg still rolling around the bottom, and without putting too much thought into it, I pull it out and take a huge bite. I can’t help it. I’ve always been an emotional eater.
The door swings open and, oh my word—
“Bowie?” Shepherd Wexler thunders, and suffice it to say, he looks more than a little startled to see me. His sister runs in behind him, as does his brother, Lee. “Are you eating chicken?”
“Shep!” Tilly and Regina cry out at once.
“I can explain everything,” I say as I struggle to rise to my feet.
Kelly groans hard. “Why does it look like a fried chicken piñata went off in my office?”
Lee, Shep’s look-alike hot blue-collar brother, starts in on a dark laugh.
“Nice seeing you again, Bowie.” He shakes his head. “Shep was just telling us what a handful you’ve been since you blew into town when Kelly got the call from the security company.”
Kelly narrows her eyes my way. “I’m going to have the three of you arrested and your little chicken, too!”
It takes a half hour of shouting for Shep to convince his sister and the sheriff’s deputies who arrive on the scene that this was all a big clucking misunderstanding—only Shep’s language was a bit saltier.
Tilly, Regina, and I pick the place clean of any fried offenses, and within an hour we’re all back safely in Starry Falls.
Shep stares hard at me from across the sofa as I hold Pixie back in my cabin.
“Start at the beginning,” he says, unamused as to any of the shenanigans that unfolded this evening. He told me so himself on the drive home.
Tilly drove Regina home, even though Regina insisted on riding shotgun in Shep’s truck but he outright refused her. But it was the first time I would have gladly acquiesced my spot to her. Needless to say, Shep was in a mood all the way back to the cabin. And not a good one.
“So I had this idea,” I say, scooting in close and pulling Pixie into my lap.
“That’s where you went wrong,” he deadpans. “The next time you have an idea, you should run the other way. Bake a cake. Bake a lasagna. Take a nip off of Opal’s arsenal of comfort. But for God’s sake, do not deep dive into any vagrant notion that might pop into your mind.”
I scoff over at him. “Are you saying I have bad ideas?”
“I’m saying you have dangerous ideas. You’re the one who called them bad.” He nods. “But I’d go with that if I were you.”
“I’d say something snarky right back, but I know what side my legal toast is buttered on. Thank you for sparing me the clinker.”
“The clinker is still hungry to have you, in the event you haven’t noticed. I would think your Uncle Vinnie would frown on your recent breaking and entering effort. And I’m going out on a limb to say, I bet he wouldn’t be too thrilled about you interfering in one homicide investigation after another.”
“He wouldn’t be too thrilled I let a homicide detective slash thriller writer in on my secret past either, but you don’t see me berating myself for it.”
Shep inches back, a smile forming on his lips.
“Okay, you got me. What did you find in Kelly’s office other than a bucket of golden fried chicken?”
Pixie lets out a sharp mewl at the thought of a tasty bird.
“Madeline Swanson was up to no good.” I whip out my phone and show Shep the records that indicate Madeline Swanson was taking a donation for herself to the tune of ten grand before we look at the much heftier one she sent Kiera.
Shep shakes his head. “The night of the murder, I could have sworn Kiera and Madeline weren’t getting along.”
“They weren’t, which makes this donation that much more dicier.”
“All right, Detective Binx.” Shep lands those Siberian husky cool blue eyes my way. “Who are your suspects and why?”
“Ooh.” I lean in. “Why do I feel like you’re flirting with me?”
“Because justice is your love language.”
“Something like that,” I say as Pixie traipses over into his lap. “First up, Kiera Hillerman. She’s the owner of Goober, Inc., a very successful start-up that bilks millions of innocent people out of hard-earned dollars with overpriced stuff. The night of the murder, Kiera was the one who warned me to keep an eye out on my boyfriend around Madeline. And, not only was she the one who volunteered to get a round
