LITMIR.BIZ

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and long, blond hair, the two could have been sisters. Instead, they had both fallen for the same man, five years apart. Maddie was the ex-wife in the relationship, while Sugar was the current girlfriend.

      “I would hope that Sugar or Liza Twaine wouldn’t dream of trying to kill me.” Maddie flipped her blond hair over her shoulder.

      Daisy coughed and said something under her breath that wasn’t fit for print. “Well, I’ve finished the book, and I can tell you that—”

      Every member of the Mystery Moms Book Club’s voice rose to stop Daisy, our eldest member, before she could give away the plot. Most of the women hadn’t finished the book since I’d just sent out the recommendation the previous day. In fact, we weren’t even supposed to be discussing Woman Scorned until next week. Yet the book had grabbed their attention, and their responses had been passionate. Between the loud noises, squeals, and inappropriate phrases, I truly hoped we didn’t have any tourists shopping on the lower lever of the store. Any outsiders would think we were plum crazy. Anyone who lived in the tri-county area would know it was just book club Wednesday.

      Daisy’s husband Jessie cleared the air of animosity. “That’s my wife,” he said with sarcasm dripping off every word.

      All the women began to laugh…with the exception of Daisy. Her scowl deepened as she directed it toward Jessie. She obviously didn’t care for her husband talking about her in that tone. Especially when it was so close to the line she was famous for using when talking about him. That’s my husband was the most commonly used phrase in Hazel Rock thanks to Daisy, and it had multiple meanings. It could mean, get your grubby paws away from my man, or this old coot is going to get an earful when I get him alone. The possibilities were endless—until Jessie applied the phrase to Daisy.

      I was betting that would be the first and last time he tried it.

      “Doesn’t anyone else find it creepy that the author used real people from our town to write a murder mystery?” I asked.

      Reba Sue dismissed my concern. “He changed the names.”

      “Changing Sugar’s name to Candy isn’t much of a stretch,” I argued. “Not to mention killing off Maddie—I mean Pattie, isn’t very nice if he’s angling it about real people.” The author had changed Maddie’s name, to Pattie in his book and her death hadn’t been pleasant.

      “That’s because he was smitten with Sugar. The way my husband used to be with me.” Daisy glared at Jessie sitting across the room reading a copy of Rodeo Times. As a retired rodeo star, Jessie loved to catch up on what was going on throughout the circuit with the monthly newspaper.

      Jessie lowered the paper and winked at Daisy. “I still am, darlin’.”

      Daisy’s frown disappeared, and a twinkle appeared in her eyes.

      “Nathan Daniels wasn’t smitten. He was obsessed with Sugar,” Leila interjected.

      “What do you mean?” I asked.

      “He came into the bar every night and watched her. If Sugar wasn’t scheduled, he’d turn around and head out without having one beer. He claimed she was inspiring his next best seller.” Leila’s nose scrunched with distaste. “I think he was one creepy man.”

      Mateo Espinosa, the county sheriff who’d kept silent throughout the entire meeting while he leaned against the railing with his chiseled arms folded across his chest, frowned. His brown uniform wasn’t the most appealing, but the body that filled it out made up for the putrid color. Tall and muscular, he had dark hair and dark eyes that put him in the Sheriff McDreamy category. “Why didn’t someone say something to me?”

      Leila shook her head, her curls jiggling in time with her body. “Sugar never complained. Not once. She said it was fine if he looked, as long as he didn’t touch. I had Joe watching him whenever he came into the bar.”

      Joe and Leila Buck owned the Tool Shed Tavern. It was where everyone went on Monday, Thursday, and Sunday nights during football season. When it wasn’t football season, they offered the only live entertainment in town every Friday night. The bar had been a staple in town long before my family had moved to Hazel Rock, Texas.

      Mateo looked at Sugar. “You should have said something.”

      I knew Mateo better than most people in Hazel Rock. He was irritated that he missed something everyone else knew about. I could tell by the creases forming in his brow. Right now, he wasn’t happy with the possibility of someone stalking Sugar.

      And, like Mateo, I wasn’t comfortable with it either. “Changing the name of the Tool Shed to the Tool Shack for his novel wasn’t exactly a stretch of the imagination,” I said.

      “Nor is Eliza Blain that far of a stretch from Liza Twaine. From what I’ve read so far, he’s depicted me as a desperate reporter who’d stop at nothing to get a story. Including murder.”

      No one argued with Liza. If anything, a few heads nodded in agreement with the author’s description of her. Which was enough to tick Liza off from here ‘til Tuesday.

      “Whatever.” She huffed. “I have a deadline to make.” Liza got up and stomped down the steps in her four-inch, purple stilettos.

      “See you next week!” I called down to her. Her response was mumbled too quietly for me to hear before she disappeared behind the swish of the sliding front doors.

      Daisy continued the discussion. “Luckily, Nathan Daniels doesn’t write true crime stories. If he did, his book would have left one of us dead, one of us widowed, and one of us locked up. The last thing we need is trouble.”

      “This town could use a little trouble,” Jessie said from behind his newspaper.

      The silence echoed as we waited for Jessie to explain himself. Even Daisy seemed shocked by her husband’s comment. The sound of Daddy ringing up a sale downstairs traveled to us, and I felt momentary relief that at least something was going right this morning, since the book club was turning out to be a bust. When Jessie let his comment fester as he turned the page of his newspaper, his wife finally responded for all of us.

      “You’ve done lost your mind Jessie; none of us are young enough to stir up anything anymore.”

      Several of the mystery moms nodded in agreement, but Mateo just grinned and looked in my direction.

      “I know you’re not thinking that I’m a troublemaker,” I leaned over and whispered in his ear.

      “I’m thinking your name is synonymous with trouble.”

      Before I could respond my daddy made his way up the stairs. In his late fifties, he was lean and fit with enough gray in all the right places to make him look distinguished. His plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots were pretty common in Hazel Rock, especially for the men of his generation.

      “Has Cade moved in?” he asked me. “His stuff is scattered everywhere.”

      Mateo’s left eyebrow rose a quarter of a centimeter. No one noticed it. Except me.

      Jessie laid his paper in his lap. “And the trouble begins.”

      Daisy smiled at her spouse as she swiped the air in his direction. “That’s my husband.”

      I laughed at my father’s question, but it sounded more like a nervous cackle. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

      The members of the Mystery Moms were intrigued. They saw the opportunity to get the answers to a question that had plagued the citizens of Hazel Rock for over a dozen years. Would the town princess and her hero, Hazel Rock’s current mayor, get back together, or not?

      We would not.

      Mateo uncrossed his legs as he leaned against the post at the top of the steps. We’d been quietly dating for the past several months. For a small town, it was amazing that our relationship had never filled the rumor mill with yards of material. No one teased us, and no one asked us about it. They just let us be, and that was the way I

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