Pecan Pie Predicament (Murder in the Mix #27) - Addison Moore Page 0,32
have an air freshener no one ever wanted.
Two men are up at bat. The first guy tosses his chip, and it floats off like a Frisbee until it lands way out in the pasture. The next guy steps up, a surly man in a black ten-gallon hat, tosses his chip a few inches farther than the last guy, and he’s quickly declared the winner.
Another man takes the stage and takes on the reigning champion of cow pies, and I quickly understand how things work around here. I bet the bragging rights alone are worth handling dehydrated cow dung with your bare hands.
Someone dumps a fresh pile of cow chips into the large tin bucket between the two men causing a dust storm of poopy proportions, and Reese bucks with a laugh. Her dark hair is pulled into a low ponytail, and she has on an adorable pink cowboy hat that matches those pink streaks in her hair. Suddenly, I have the craving for a cowboy hat myself. It’s funny how my cravings so far have landed in the two areas of my life I love most, food and shopping.
I’m about to head over when a good-looking ghostly couple floats my way holding hands.
I groan at the sight. “Greer.” I nod my head to the offense, and she waves me off.
“Oh, Lottie”—she rolls her glowing eyes—“Barry just doesn’t want me to get lost in the crowd. It’s not like he’s planning on stealing me away from Winslow.”
He belts out a laugh that sounds more fit for a horror movie than it does a rom-com.
“I’m sorry, but I’m stealing you away, Greer.” He winks at me, and I can’t help but notice how his muscles have ballooned twice their size than they were at the bakery. This is one ghost who is set to impress, and that’s exactly why I’m not putting much weight into that wink. I think Barry Honeycutt is making his ghostly intentions clear. Winslow Decker better watch his dead back because there’s a new poltergeist in town looking to sweep Greer Giles off her supernatural feet.
Barry nods my way. “So what are we doing, Lottie?”
“See that girl in the pink cowboy hat?” I point her way. “I’m about to give her the shakedown. Stay close.”
We head on over just as the man who challenged the winner of that cow chip toss steps away in defeat.
Reese cups her hands around her mouth. “Do we have anyone brave enough to challenge our reigning champion? Anyone at all willing to risk the disgrace and humiliation?”
The crowd titters and rumbles but nary a soul crops up.
“I’ll do it.” I raise my hand, and a light round of laughter mingled with applause breaks out.
Reese offers an open-mouthed smile. She’s pretty, with a fragile nose and big bright eyes. The top row of her teeth looks short and straight, but unnaturally so as if they were filed down that way.
“Well, if it isn’t Lottie Lemon.” She steps my way. “A woman just came into my gym with a petition to boot you out of Honey Hollow.”
“Here’s hoping you didn’t sign it.”
My phone buzzes in my hand, and it’s a text from Noah asking if I wanted to head to Mangias and split a pizza.
I bury my phone in my purse. I’ll answer him in just a minute.
“That woman is a nitwit,” I tell her. “If I were you, I’d have her arrested the next time she brought in some ridiculous petition. I bet it’s bad for business, too. She was probably scaring the customers.”
“Not really. She garnered about twenty signatures while she was there.”
“She moves fast,” I mutter under my breath. “Cormack Featherby has been a thorn in my side for a very long time, but this ploy of hers to get rid of me is really boiling my blood.”
“No kidding,” Reese muses. “I can see the rage in your eyes. You might want to use that to your advantage when tossing your chips. Try to imagine Cormack’s face on that cow patty. I usually tell women to imagine their ex. You’d be surprised how far some women have gotten just on their rage alone. Winner plays free, loser antes up five dollars a toss. You ready to do this?”
“You bet,” I say as I pick out a cow chip as flat and round as a paper plate, and sure as heck, I’d swear good money I see Cormack Featherby’s effigy on it.