Southern Fried Murder Read online

  Table of Contents

  © 2019 Tegan Maher

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Thank You!

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  About Tegan

  © 2019 Tegan Maher

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form, by any means electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system currently in use or yet to be devised.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or institutions is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal use and may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase a copy for that person. If you did not purchase this book, or it was not purchased for your use, then you have an unauthorized copy. Please go to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting my hard work and copyright.

  Dedication

  To Dustin, as always. And to Ahab and Dog, for being an ever-present source of love and laughs. Dogs are a girl’s best friend!

  Finally, to Regina Welling, for being there, and for making me the most awesome covers ever!

  CHAPTER ONE

  "STOP!" I SAID, LAUGHING and holding my stick of cotton candy out of reach of Hunter's grasping fingers. "It's not my fault you already pigged all yours down."

  He grinned, his green eyes glittering as he slipped his arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze as we walked. "I'd share with you if the shoe was on the other foot, but that's okay. Eat it all yourself."

  Plucking a fluffy piece of blue candy off the stick, I popped it into my mouth and shot him a satisfied look. "Fine, I will. With absolutely zero guilt."

  My moment of superiority was lost about three seconds later, when my toe caught on one of the hundred fat extension cords snaking across the fairground. I pitched forward, but Hunter grabbed me by the forearm just in time to keep me from face planting into the gate surrounding the Tilt-A-Whirl. He cocked a brow and looked at the candy still clasped in my hand and I sighed. "All right. You win. Saving my life earned you a bite."

  With a heart-stopping half grin, he bumped his forehead to mine and said, "Why do you think I caught you?"

  Before I could whack him, he dropped a kiss on my nose and pulled a bite of candy from the stick.

  Tucking me back against him, he steered us back onto the throughway and toward the rides. "So you're sure you don't want to ride the Ferris wheel with me?" he asked.

  "I've never been so sure of anything in my life," I replied, shaking my head. "No way am I getting in a tiny bucket barely bolted to a giant spinning wheel that pinnacles at three million feet in the air. I'll keep my two feet planted firmly down here where they belong, thanks."

  He shot me a disbelieving look. "You have a little more recourse than other people do, you know." He wiggled his fingers.

  I snorted. "Uh, no. It doesn't work that way. I might be able to conjure something up to keep me from dying if I could think fast enough, but then I'd have to explain how I escaped the rogue killer Ferris wheel. That's way too much work. I'll just stay down here."

  "Hey, look," he said, pointing toward one of the vendor trucks lining the walkway. "Callie's got her funnel cake cart set up."

  Callie McCauley had moved to Keyhole Lake from Kentucky a few years back. Around Valentine's Day, her husband, along with Hunter and a few other guys had accidentally consumed a love potion. I'd had to out myself as a witch to her in order to keep her from committing him to the loony bin, and since then, we'd become friends. Eying the fluffy, sugarcoated cake as she handed it out the window, I wished I'd held off on the cotton candy. Thankfully, the spring fair was gonna be around for another week, so I'd have my chance.

  "Yeah," I said as we changed tack and headed that way, "I talked to her yesterday, and she'd already gone through over a hundred pounds of flour and another eighty apples over the last couple days."

  Hunter's eyebrows shot almost to his hairline. "How does she even make them that fast?"

  By that time, we were standing beside the truck where she was doing her best to work her way through a line of bouncing kids and harried-looking parents. She heard us and looked up as she handed three plates of the sugarcoated confections to a woman with two small, dirty-faced kids with eyes that shone with excitement.

  Smiling, she replied, "By never stopping. I'm pretty sure I have carpal tunnel from twisting all the apples in the candy. I swear, I'm gonna sleep for a week when this is over." From the sparkle in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks, I could tell she was enjoying every minute of it, though.

  "And you're gonna be smiling all the way to the hardware store, too," I said. Her goal when they'd bought the truck was to travel around to the summer fairs in the hopes of making enough money to remodel the old farmhouse they'd just purchased.

  "You bet your boots," she said with a wink once the woman and her kids were out of hearing range. We waited a few minutes while she served the remainder of the line.

  She motioned to the empty space in front of her window. "This is the first lull I've had since I opened two hours ago, and it's been like that since the fair started." She lowered her voice. "This is only the fifth fair we’ve done this season, and we've already put back enough to not only do the remodel, but to put a nice down payment on a new-to-us truck, too."

  I was glad to hear that. They'd been looking for a way to make some extra money for several months, and when they’d stumbled across a great deal on a food truck, she’d figured it was kismet. She'd been making funnel cakes since she was a kid and had a recipe that was off the chain. I didn't know what the special ingredient was, but it was awesome.

  "That's amazing!" Hunter said. "All from selling funnel cakes?"

  She laughed and used her forearm to push back a few wisps of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail. "Yup, all from funnel cakes. Well, and the candy apples, too. Y'all want one?"

  Even though I'd just polished off the cotton candy, my mouth watered at the smell of the fried treats and gleaming apples.

  "Absolutely," Hunter said. "As a matter of fact, give us five apples. We'll take Bobbi Sue, Earl, and Justin one. We're heading over there for supper, but they'll make a great dessert. We'll do funnel cake tomorrow."

&n
bsp; "Nuts or no nuts?" she asked.

  "Both," I said. "Two with nuts and three without. Hunter and Bobbie Sue like nuts. Justin, Earl, and I are purists."

  Hunter rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure the whole purist thing is debatable. They've always come with and without, so I think one way is just as pure as the other."

  I shrugged. "Whatever. As long as mine doesn't have nuts." When she reached for the apples, I noticed there were only three left. "We don't want to wipe you out, though. We can come back later."

  She waved me off. "Sam's on his way with a new batch. They weren't quite set when I made them this morning, so since I couldn't wrap them, he said he'd bring them to me when they were ready. He texted a little bit ago to let me know he was on his way."

  "Okay, then," I said, glad we were going to be able to take some to Bobbie Sue and her crew. They'd been stuck in the restaurant and hadn't been able to come to the fair yet.

  Callie handed us the treats, but when Hunter reached for his wallet, she waved him off. "Friends-and-family discount. Trust me; I'll make up the lost cost on the next one I sell."

  "Thanks!" I said, grinning. "Catch us over at the coffee shop, and I'll set you up with some pastries."

  "You always do," she said with a half-grin. "So a few free apples is the least I can do."

  She and Sam had gone through a rough patch a few months ago when she’d lost her job at the Piggly Wiggly due to cutbacks. She'd started selling cutesy, hand-painted signs and decorations online, but that hadn’t quite been enough to make up the lost income. It was nice to see the worry lines gone from her face, especially since I didn't have to feel like I was taking food from their mouths by accepting the freebies.

  "Excuse me," a woman who'd come up behind us said impatiently, "but if you're finished chatting, there are other people in line."

  I gave her and the young woman standing next to her a tight smile and thanked Callie for the apples before we turned and headed to Bobbie Sue's BBQ, one of the two best restaurants in town.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE SMELL OF SMOKED meat hit us when we were still a block from Bobbie Sue's, and my mouth watered. We'd been going all day and hadn't eaten anything except cotton candy since breakfast. My stomach had been rumbling in protest for over an hour, but we'd been having so much fun playing the games at the fair and catching up with friends along the way that I hadn't wanted to leave.

  I’d been tempted to pay the forty-two million dollars they were asking for a smoked sausage sandwich, but had controlled the urge. We'd made plans with Bobbie Sue to eat there and pick up Justin, their ten-year-old son, and take him to the fair. Fair food paled in comparison to Bobbie Sue's—or rather Earl's—ribs, so it was worth waiting.

  As we hustled through the front door, the cool air from inside washed over us, and I shivered. It was a typical May day in Georgia, which meant it was hot as sin and humid as a sauna, and my tank top was sticking to me. The sun wouldn’t start to set for a few more hours yet, but it was still early enough in the year that the nights cooled down. It would be nice weather for chasing a kid around a carnival.

  Justin rushed toward us before the doors were even closed behind us. "I'm ready to go when you are," he said, his brown eyes shining from underneath his shock of red hair.

  I laughed and put my hands out. "Slow your role, brat. I'm starving, and if I don't get something in my belly soon, I'm gonna be too weak to go. Besides, it’s hot as blazes out there."

  He frowned and sighed. "Order something quick then. I been waitin' all day. I don’t care about the heat."

  Hunter ruffled his hair. "Are you cooking?"

  Ever since Bobbie Sue and Earl had adopted him nearly a year ago, he'd been learning the ropes of running a restaurant and was actually darned good for a kid his age. To hear him tell it, he worked his fingers to the bone. In reality, he spent most of his time doing small chores and playing video games in the back room when he was there.

  "Nah," he said, shooting for his most adult look. "Not tonight. Earl's on the smoker and Bobbie Sue's makin' beans. They’ve got it under control." He spotted the candy apples in my hand. "Those for me?"

  "One of 'em is," Hunter replied. "There's one for all of us."

  He eyeballed them. "I hope you didn't get me one with nuts. I don't like nuts."

  "Nope," I said with a grin, "I'd never to that to my favorite half-pint. Nuts are gross."

  "Earl says so too," he said, reaching for the apple. "C'mon. Get somethin' to eat so we can get to the carnival. I wanna ride the Silver Bullet." He looked at Hunter. "You gonna ride it with me? I know Noelle ain't gonna. She's scared of rides."

  I scowled at him as we made our way to our favorite booth. "I'm not scared. I'm smart. Joey Hatterfield helped put the rides up, and he's not got the brains of a box of rocks. Pardon me if I don't have enough faith in his assembly skills to put my life in his hands."

  He gave me a look that plainly expressed his opinion of my excuse, but it was true. I'd gotten stuck upside down on a ride at a major amusement park when I was fifteen and figured if a million-dollar ride could get messed up like that, a portable one thrown up by a bunch of stoners in hour was surely high-risk.

  "You ride your motorcycle at seventy miles an hour and don't even have a cage around you," he pointed out as we swung by the waitress stand so I could pour us a couple glasses of tea.

  "Yeah," I replied, "but I'm the one driving, and I know there aren't any loose bolts on my bike."

  Hunter grinned. "So it's not a matter of heights, but of control. I knew it."

  "Guilty," I said, taking a long pull off my tea then refilling it. "Doesn't really matter why though. All that matters is that you two can ride to your hearts' content. I'll stand on the ground and talk to Raeann and people watch."

  My cousin Raeann was of the same opinion of rides as I was; she'd been right beside me while we hung upside down for an hour, fifty feet off the ground, while they figured out how to get us down. There wasn't enough love nor money on the planet to get either of us on another one.

  "Speaking of Rae," Hunter said, "is she meeting us here or at the fair?"

  "There," I said. "She had to do quarterly financials, so she wasn't sure if she'd be done in time to meet us here."

  "What do you want to eat?" Justin asked, glancing out the window. "I don't want to miss anything."

  "Ribs," Hunter and I said in unison.

  "Fine," he said. "A pork sandwich it is. Ribs take too long to eat." Before I could protest, he'd already dashed into the kitchen.

  Hunter grinned at me. "I guess we're having pulled pork."

  I shook my head and smiled back. "Looks like it. Good thing that's kinda what I want anyway. I was just messing with him."

  He huffed. "I wasn't. I want ribs."

  It wasn't even five minutes before Bobbie Sue, my godmother and one of my closest friends, hustled toward us carrying three platters, two with pork sandwiches and the other ribs. In addition to the meat, each plate held the crispiest, most deliciously salty fries on the planet, piping hot baked beans, and creamy slaw, all of it homemade. She slid the ribs in front of Hunter then scooched into the booth beside me. She plopped one of the sandwich platters on the table in front of me, keeping the other for herself.

  "Eat up," she said, "before that boy spontaneously combusts. He's been watchin' the clock for the last hour and a half."

  "I figured," I said, biting into my sandwich. "I remember when I was his age. I looked forward to the spring fair as soon as the fall one wrapped up."

  I pulled some napkins from the holder and distributed them, then dug in.

  We chatted about this and that as we ate and were almost finished when Hunter's phone rang. He wiped his fingers as best he could on his napkin then pulled his phone out and swiped to answer with his knuckle.

  "Sheriff Woods."

  He listened for ten seconds or so, then closed his eyes. "Secure the scene. I'll be there in five minutes."

  Ending the call, he s
lid out of the booth and stood up.

  "What was that all about?" I asked, and I knew from her furrowed brow Bobbie Sue was about to ask the same thing.

  "I don't know much yet, except a woman's had an accident at the fair."

  "Well for heaven's sake," Bobbie Sue said. "Heat stroke? Is she okay?" She turned toward me. "I swear, these tourists come here and ain't got the sense to drink enough water to make up for what they sweat out."

  Hunter shook his head. "That's not it. She's dead."

  "Dead?" I asked as Bobbie Sue slid out of the booth to let me out. "How?"

  "I don't know yet," he replied, worry creasing his face. "But that's what I aim to find out."

  He was to the front and out the door before I could even stand up.

  "Tell Justin I'll be back," I told Bobbie Sue, wiping my fingers and tossing my napkin onto my plate. "Lemme see what's going on. If it's too bad, Hunter may close the carnival anyway."

  My thoughts instantly went to somebody splattered on the ground beside the Ferris wheel, broken bucket dangling by a lone, bent bolt, and I shuddered.

  "I'll tell him," she said. "If it gets too late tonight, he'll settle for tomorrow. Now go. And don't forget to text me as soon as you know more."

  "I won't," I called over my shoulder. I sent a little wish to the universe that the woman died of natural causes, but with the way my luck ran, I wasn't holding my breath.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE LIGHTS AND SOUNDS and scents of the carnival that had given me such pleasure just an hour before seemed warped as I pushed my way to the front of the circle of looky-lous around the scene. I cringed when I caught my first glimpse of the woman. Though paramedics surrounded her, it was obvious from the glazed eyes and residue of bubbles around her mouth that she was gone, never to return to this plane again.

  There was a younger woman standing off to the side, clasping and unclasping her hands as she tried to stay as close as she could without being in the way. Her face was pinched and pale, and I guessed she hadn't had time to emerge from the shock to pass to the grief stage. That is, assuming she was going to feel grief. As far as I knew, the woman could have been a business associate. I doubted that, though; given the striking resemblance between the two, I'd have laid my money she was the dead woman's daughter.