LITMIR.BIZ

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the conversation. But I’d recently found I could read him like a children’s novel, and by turning his back away from the front door, Mateo’s actions told me he was more than a little bit interested in where Cade Calloway had left his “stuff.” Mateo always watched the front door. The last thing he was comfortable doing was turning his back to any door, yet apparently not knowing about Cade’s things sprawled across the tearoom downstairs made him even more uncomfortable.

      The wicked woman in me took pleasure in his insecurity. It was the biggest reveal to date as to how much it would bother him if Cade and I got back together.

      Which we were not doing. Cade was my ex-high school sweetheart, for Pete’s sake. There were too many years under that particular bridge. I glanced at the boxes of Cade’s stuff that had overflowed into the loft. Hopefully everyone would continue to think they were used books I needed to put out for sale. Cause if they didn’t…

      “Can we talk about this later?” I asked under my breath as Daddy approached me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

      “Is that why we had to meet up here instead of in the tearoom?” My best friend Scarlet asked.

      Scarlet was the last person I expected to lead the charge into private matters of my heart, or to stir up the trouble that was beginning to brew. My best friend knew what the women were like when they smelled blood—they’d grab hold of the gossip, shake it one way, and if nothing came out, they’d shake it the other way before tossing it in the air for the next mystery mom to try her luck at ferreting out the answers.

      “I saw them huddled together at the back door of the Barn this morning. They were real cozy-like,” added Reba Sue. She’d had her eye on Cade for the past several years, but a couple months back she’d realized she didn’t stand a chance. It wasn’t my fault. Reba Sue lost Cade to the same woman everyone lost Cade to—his career.

      Unfortunately, I was pretty sure she hit record on her phone to get the scoop on the town mayor. I had no doubt this conversation was going to make it to Liza Twaine’s in-box at the local TV station. Cade was not going to be happy.

      “It’s not true!” I screeched with a nervous look in Mateo’s direction. His brow was wrinkled, but he didn’t say a word, and his dark Latino eyes lost their expressiveness.

      Fuzz buckets. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking now, but I knew it couldn’t be good. The problem was that I’d been sworn to secrecy, and breaking Cade’s trust was the last thing I wanted to do.

      “Let’s get back to the reason why we’re here—we were talking about next week’s mystery, Woman Scorned by Nathan Daniels,” I said.

      Daisy Mahan rescued me. “I knew the killer from page one.”

      “So did I,” added Scarlet as she reached for the pitcher of tea in the middle of the table.

      “You haven’t even finished the book,” Reba Sue protested. Tall with a little too much makeup, her complaint was loud and impatient. She rolled her eyes when everyone looked at her. “What? She hasn’t. None of us have.”

      “Well, I have, and I didn’t know who the killer was until the last chapter of the book,” added Jessie.

      “Of course, you didn’t,” Reba Sue mumbled. “But you’re not a member of the Mystery Moms, are you?”

      Daisy bristled, sat up a little straighter, and glared at Reba Sue. “That’s. My. Husband,” she ground out between her dentures.

      Reba Sue ignored her. “I’m telling you, Sugar killed her.”

      Jessie rolled his eyes at her accusation. “You make it sound like the victim died of diabetes, not a bullet in the head.”

      “And you make it sound like a joke,” Reba Sue accused.

      Reba Sue and I had never been friends, and like Jessie, my eyes rolled when she compared the killer in Nathan Daniels latest mystery novel to our very own Sugar McWilliams. Sugar was as sweet as her name implied and worked as a waitress at the Tool Shed. In her spare time, she worked part time at the Barn. She was responsible. She took care of her boyfriend’s children better than their moms. Sugar was not a killer…and we were arguing about a fictional murder.

      “Good grief, Reba Sue. You sound like you really believe Sugar killed someone,” Leila said.

      Reba Sue began skimming through the book in front of her. “Listen to his description: A voluptuous blond, Candy’s breasts were the size of—”

      It was my best friend who shut her down this time. “We get the picture, Reba Sue. We’re all reading the novel.” Scarlet Jenkins could have been the voluptuous killer Nathan Daniels was describing in his book, except my best friend barely reached five foot, and she had a shimmering flow of red hair, not “sun-kissed blond tresses cascading over her shoulders to tickle the tops of her…”

      If someone described Scarlet like that…bless his heart, because it wouldn’t be beating in his chest for very long.

      “You’re right. I don’t know why I didn’t see the similarities between Candy and our Sugar before now,” said Betty Walker, the owner of Bluebonnet Quilt Shop. Betty wasn’t the eldest of the group, but her blue hair which looked like a helmet sitting on top of her head, didn’t quite go with her skin tone. It made the veins in her face more visible, and I suspected her bobble-head effect was just one of several identical wigs she chose to wear in public.

      “Of course, there are similarities, that’s what Nathan Daniels is known for—creating characters who are relatable and believable.” Scarlet took a sip of her sweet tea and looked around the table, daring anyone to argue.

      This was the wrong group to dare.

      “So, you agree that he based the characters on the real people of Hazel Rock?” I asked as I moved to the table and sat down across from Reba Sue.

      “There’s a baker named Hans, for Pete’s sake,” Betty chimed in.

      “He makes wedding cakes. Does your Franz make wedding cakes for people around the globe?” Scarlet asked.

      “No, but he makes world-renowned pastries,” Betty argued.

      Franz made some mighty fine goodies, but I hated to tell Betty that her beau wasn’t world renowned.

      Daisy wasn’t about to be left out of the argument. “The name of the town is Greenstone and the mayor’s name is Wade. Did you guys know our mayor was stepping out with Candy…I mean, Sugar?”

      Maddie’s head swiveled in Betty’s direction.

      Sugar had had enough. “I am not!”

      “Lord have mercy, you ladies have lost your minds in this heat!” Daisy’s husband sat in the corner fanning himself with his cowboy hat.

      Daisy gave another eye roll. “That’s my husband.”

      The women started arguing across the tables, each with their own opinion about Nathan Daniels’s fictional town mirroring our own Hazel Rock. I leaned toward Scarlet. “Cade’s not seeing Sugar, is he?”

      She gave me a look that said I had gone plum crazy if I believed that.

      Daddy chose that as his cue to exit and headed for the stairs. He hadn’t planned on staying longer than an hour while I managed the book club meeting since it was his day off. I had no doubt there were a few fish with his name on them waiting for him in the river.

      Reba Sue took offense to Jessie’s interruption. “Hush up, you old coot. This is serious business.”

      Every other word being hurled across the table dropped to the floor in one beat of silence. The Mysteries Moms looked at Reba Sue who had no clue she’d just committed a crime against society. Specifically, we all knew better than to insult Jessie Mahan in front of his wife, Daisy. And Reba Sue had done it several times.

      Reba Sue looked at all the women staring at her. “What?” she asked. “He’s

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