Trouble in Texas_A Flight Risk Cozy Mystery Read online

  Junior smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Yeah, thank you,” Mary said, smiling. “You know, Junior, I had a thought about what I want to do with some of my gold.”

  “What’s that?” Junior asked.

  “Well, if Mom and Dad retire, Mom can’t be your on-hand vet anymore. I was thinking I’d send myself to school and build another homestead on the land. Have my own house, and let you take this old place. I know it means more to you. But I can be the official veterinarian for the ranch and let you run the place. I know that’s probably more your speed anyway,” Mary explained.

  Junior perked up. “Mary! That’s a great idea!”

  “I thought you might would like that,” she said.

  Kendell smiled. “Where’s that leave you, Jesse?”

  “I’m just the girlfriend,” she said, then cringed a bit for using the word ‘girlfriend’ so quickly, but Junior smiled and nodded in agreement.

  Kendell felt a little odd leaving Jesse at the ranch, but she was glad she had found such a nice guy that she was willing to invest in. Mr. Carson and Mary drove them to the airport, waving and hugging good-bye. “So, where to, Pauline?” Kendell asked, and Pauline started walking around the outside of the airport, confusing Kendell significantly.

  “We’re not taking a plane to our next destination,” Pauline explained as they made their way to the airport’s rental service station.

  Kendell raised a brow. “Oh, yeah?” she questioned. “Where are we going?”

  “You just wait here, dear. I’m going to go get us a car,” Pauline said. “Actually, why don’t you take Dot inside to the gift shop and get yourself a new sticker while I get us a car?”

  “Good idea,” Kendell said, taking the dog carrier from Pauline. She headed inside, where she quickly located the airport’s gift shop and picked herself out a new sticker—a giant sticker of a long horn with the words Dallas, Texas across its horns. She bought it and then slapped it onto her carry-on bag.

  She then went outside, let Dot out of her carrier to use the restroom, and began walking back toward the rental car location where Pauline was already waiting in a little Ford Fusion. Kendell climbed into the passenger’s seat, releasing Dot into the back. Dot liked to jump around a lot whenever they were in the car. “You never told me where we were going,” Kendell said.

  “Well, we have some downtime,” Pauline began. “Because the plan was to spend two weeks in Peru before going to our next location. But we certainly didn’t spend two weeks in Texas, so it’ll be a while before my reservations are ready for the next location.”

  “So, where are we going?” Kendell asked.

  “A road trip,” Pauline said. “We’re going home.”

  “Home?” Kendell asked.

  “Well, my home,” Pauline said with a smile. “We’re going to Georgia!”

  Kendell laughed. It seemed like she was going to be stuck in the South for a while. She propped her feet up onto the dashboard and sent Jack a text message while Pauline pulled out of the airport’s parking lot. She turned on the radio and they sang along to the country music that filled the car. It was going to be a long ride to Georgia, but Kendell was looking forward to seeing Pauline’s home.

  She smiled at her little carry-on bag. A London, England sticker; a Nairobi, Kenya sticker; a Honolulu, Hawaii sticker; and now a Dallas, Texas, sticker decorated the bag. She was happy. She had spent so much of her young life working and just wasting away the good years. She was glad to finally be out having adventures. She was thankful for Pauline. Pauline was the woman who had made this adventure possible for her. And, now, she was going to get to see where this crazy woman she had come to love as a close friend came from. She was looking forward to putting that sticker on her bag most of all.

  * * *

  Thanks for reading Trouble in Texas. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

  Be sure to check out the next book in the Flight Risk Cozy Mystery series. The book is called Murder in Mississippi and if you pre-order it now on Amazon, it will automatically be delivered to your device on launch day.

  Get Murder in Mississippi here: amazon.com/dp/B07C6GRZYJ

  At the very end of the book, I have included a couple previews of books. First is a preview of Dying for a Drive - it’s the first book in my popular Senoia Cozy Mystery series. Second is a preview of Up in Smoke by Shannon VanBergen - it’s the first book in the Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on Amazon.

  Get Dying for a Drive here: amazon.com/dp/B01N4TEYQY

  Get Up in Smoke here: amazon.com/dp/B06XHKYRRX

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  Preview: Dying for a Drive

  The crisp air tickled Felicity’s nose, so she bundled up tight as she headed out of Senoia Coffee on the corner, gripping her hot chocolate. It was still early fall, which was rare to be chilly so soon in Georgia, but an unexpected cold front had come in. She smiled as she went out to the street and could see all of the classic cars getting ready for the event. Everything was running smoothly, and Wanda seemed to be smiling her approval as the two women walked up the sidewalk together back toward Overton’s Events, which had become the headquarters for the car show’s event planning.

  Felicity smiled when she saw Jefferson speaking with a customer while a few of the car owners waited patiently for his attention. He was keeping a steady eye on the hustle going on around him while maintaining an upbeat smile for the curious patron. Not wanting to break his rhythm, she plopped the second cup of hot chocolate she had bought on the counter beside him and he nodded his thanks. She got to work addressing any concerns of the car owners. There were a few complaints about spacing and crowds but nothing she couldn’t handle thanks to the notes Wanda had given. They were so detailed that Felicity was prepared for just about anything, and all the participants, from the overly gracious to hilariously stubborn, performed just as expected. Soon she was back in the street again after a solid “Good job” was thrown her way from Wanda, who headed in the opposite direction to help finish putting out signs.

  Soon the event was underway, and the streets were lined with people who had come to gawk at the cars. She headed toward the gazebo where the out-of-towner, Charles, had parked his Cobra. The old car was a beautiful metallic red that glinted pristinely in the sunlight. Charles had opted out of having a show tent so the buyer could see how the sun hit the car. As she walked over, she could see Charles polishing it for what had to be the third time since he’d driven up that morning, and he was doing so with a cigar dangling awkwardly from his lips to avoid getting ash on the paint.

  “So have you sold it yet?” Felicity asked as she came upon the older gentleman. Charles made her slightly uncomfortable. When she’d met him that morning to go over the details of the event, she’d tried her hardest to be professional, but the old man’s gaze had barely made it above her neckline and he had thrown her a compliment about her chest she’d rather never hear repeated. He took a long drag of his cigar and leaned against the hood, eyeing her lewdly. The man had to be at least sixty-five, but that certainly did not stop him from eyeing any female who passed him by with an immodest gaze.

  “Maybe,” he huffed, looking slightly annoyed as a young man walk
ed around from the back of the vehicle.

  “Maybe is right,” the young man said, and Felicity grinned.

  “Adam,” Felicity said. “So you’re the mysterious car-buyer?”

  Adam Fao was a local, and she knew him well. He came from old money, and everyone in town knew he had finally taken over his father’s finances after a long court battle with some distant relatives who tried to claim the older Fao had attempted to leave them oodles of cash. It had of course been a lie, and it had driven Adam mad the past several months. He hadn’t even dealt with burying his father before he was suddenly embroiled in a battle for everything he’d ever owned. It was a shame, really, how many family members came out of the woodwork when a relative died just to try to collect some money. Adam, his father’s only child, had of course received his father’s inheritance. Adam’s father had always been a fan of the car show, often buying cars and showing them off the next year with his own restorations. He even made a hefty donation to keep the event going, and it looked like his son was continuing the tradition.

  Adam smiled. “Who else around here do you think would want to buy something like this?” He laughed slightly. He was dressed in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and blue jeans; that was something that certainly made him different from the older Fao. Felicity could not remember ever seeing Adam’s father in anything other than a suit. Adam grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it down. “Look,” he said. Felicity could see a large gob of oil soaking Adam’s t-shirt.

  “Yikes,” she said.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Charles said. “It’s an old car. Old cars leak.”

  “I’m amazed you were able to get it here from Florida,” Adam said; he sounded slightly annoyed. “I’m sorry, but I am not paying this much for a car that has issues. Not the amount we discussed, at least.”

  “I didn’t drive all the way from Panama for you to tell me you changed your mind,” Charles retorted, eyeing the young man reproachfully.

  “Dad.” A young man hopped out of the passenger’s seat. Instantly, Felicity could see the resemblance to Charles. The young man was in his thirties, and wore the same scowl as his father. “You can’t sell him a car with problems. We didn’t know it had a leak, all right? We’ll be in town for a few days. We can hire a mechanic and fix it up.”

  “It wasn’t leaking yesterday,” Charles spat.

  “Well, it is now,” Adam rebuked and attempted to clean the oil off his shirt. “It’s just an oil leak. Have someone look into it, and then we can talk.”

  Charles’s son nodded. “That’s perfectly reasonable,” he said and glared at his father. Charles glared back and harrumphed while walking behind the Cobra, grumbling to himself about spoiled rich kids and ungrateful sons. The young man rolled his eyes and looked at Felicity. “I’m Brandon Jones, by the way. I think we talked on the phone last week about the car.”

  Felicity stuck her hand out. “Yes, I remember,” she said as they shook hands. She took a moment to look him up and down and realized just how much like his father he really did look. She considered mentioning it, but before she could say much more, shouting was suddenly heard from the gazebo. She glanced up to see two local women, Monica Barns and Jesse Timid, going back and forth. She couldn’t make out everything they were saying with them screaming over each other, but what she could hear was pretty colorful to say the least. She put her hands on her hips, ready to go settle whatever feud had started.

  “They’re at it again, huh?” Charles laughed, nudging his son.

  “Shut up,” Brandon snapped, the scowl etching itself deeper into his brow. He exhaled with exasperation and started toward the women. He waved a hand toward Felicity. “Don’t worry, I’ll settle them down.”

  Adam rolled his eyes and hooked his arm into Felicity’s. “Come on, let the circus clowns handle this. Trust me, you don’t want to get into the middle of this one. Show me your shop; I haven’t seen it yet.” He marched her away from Charles, who was laughing while puffing on his cigar.

  She walked with Adam, but she unhooked arms as she glanced over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with Monica and Jesse?” She wasn’t majorly concerned, but she had a journalist’s ear for gossip. Besides, the two women had gotten particularly vicious, and if they kept it up, the cars weren’t going to be the only spectacle today.

  Adam laughed. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Kind of,” Felicity said with a grin, sensing something juicy was amiss.

  “That old creep, Charles Jones, catfished them both and they’re ticked off,” Adam said.

  “Catfished?” Felicity questioned.

  “You know, catfished. It’s when you pretend to be someone online that you’re not. He was chatting it up with them both, flirting and talking about how much money he had. Acting like some hot, young bigshot from Florida. Then he shows up, and, well, he’s just an old creep pitting two old friends against each other. When he wasn’t some sexy thirty-something, they both got mad at him and at each other. Apparently, they’ve been fighting for weeks over him, and now that he’s here… Well, you can imagine they’re pretty disappointed to realize they’ve been sexting with some creepy old pervert.”

  “Seriously? What kind of person does that?” Felicity questioned. “Monica and Jesse, I don’t know them well, but they’re pretty close friends, right? Why are they even fighting, though? It seems like they should be mad at Charles, not each other.”

  “I think they’re fighting over Brandon,” Adam said with a snort.

  “For crying out loud!” Felicity laughed. Some people never ceased to amaze her.

  After giving Adam a tour of the shop and then spending some time checking in on all of the car owners and speaking with Wanda about how the event was going, Felicity found herself heading back to the shop just as Jefferson was exiting.

  He smiled and stopped her. “Time for a break,” he said with a wink, letting her know he had someone inside watching the counter.

  “A break? I don’t have time for a break, Jeffrey,” she asserted, but he marched her across the street toward the local ice cream shop.

  “Oh, yes, you do. You’ve been on your feet all morning. You can take a ten-minute break and let me buy you some ice cream. Besides, while you’ve been running around, I’ve booked us two new events, and I say that’s cause for celebration,” he said and walked with a slight skip.

  “Jefferson, that’s great!” she said.

  The next thing she knew, they were sitting outside in front of the ice cream shop next to the elevator that led out into the street. The elevator let people into the office buildings on the second and third floor as well as into the basement area where a locally-owned Irish pub operated. The two of them sat together people-watching the crowd who had come out to enjoy the car show. “This event turned out really well,” Jefferson said. “This is the most crowded I’ve ever seen the car show. You did good, Felicity.”

  “Thanks,” she said and licked her ice cream cone. The cold wind that had been present that morning was gone, and the sun now beamed down on them. Autumn was like that in Georgia. The mornings were boots and scarf weather while come noon it was blistering hot, and you were wishing you had dressed a lot lighter while you ate your ice cream like it was mid-June.

  “You always do a good job,” he added. “Seriously, Felicity, you’re amazing. I don’t know anyone else who could handle this job better than you.” There was a shyness about Jefferson that day that Felicity hadn’t noticed before. She couldn’t figure out exactly what had him so flustered. “Listen,” he said firmly. “I have been wanting to ask you—”

  A loud scream made both of them jolt in their seats. A woman ran toward them from the elevator, her arms and legs shaking. “Call 911!” she shrieked, her eyes darting toward Jefferson, who had jumped up at the sound of the scream.

  Felicity stood as well, and she couldn’t help but glance toward the elevator from where the woman had fled. Through the glass door that led to the elevator, Felicity cou
ld see inside the opened door on the other side. There was a man lying completely motionless on the floor inside. For a brief second she thought she recognized the face of the man, but before she had time to react, the elevator doors shut and he was gone.

  Thanks for reading a sample of my book, Dying for a Drive. I really hope you liked it. You can read the rest at:

  amazon.com/dp/B01N4TEYQY

  Make sure you turn to the next page for the preview of Up in Smoke: A Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery.

  Preview: Up in Smoke

  I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.

  “Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”

  “I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”

  When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.

  “I can tell you put a lot of work into that sign.” I carefully put my luggage to the side of it, making sure not to touch her sign—partially because I didn’t want to crush it and partially because it didn’t look like the glue had dried yet.