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Killer Con Fuego
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Killer Con Fuego
Honey Pot Mysteries
Sarah Hualde
Published by Indie Christian Writers, 2020.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
KILLER CON FUEGO
First edition. May 19, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 Sarah Hualde.
ISBN: 978-1393013594
Written by Sarah Hualde.
Also by Sarah Hualde
Honey Pot Mysteries
Missing on Main Street
Lethal in Lavender
Farmers Market Fatality
Death by Donation
Honey Pot Mystery Box Set 1
Killer Con Fuego (Coming Soon)
Standalone
Diary of a Dyslexic Homeschooler
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Sarah Hualde
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Thank You:
About the Author
Cue the drum roll:
This one is for you Stephen! It's far from perfect but I hope it makes you smile. Thanks for having the courage to take me on as your wife. I love you...TMD.
Chapter 1
VIKKI WINTERS COULDN’T believe her luck. For years she’d been looking over her shoulder, waiting for her past to pounce. Now, she had the drop of fate. She was in control. Vikki could not contain her smile. Not only had destiny dropped one carrot into her lap, but another dangled just within her reach.
Vikki wanted to cackle. But she wasn’t a monster. Causing pain wasn’t a fun part of her job. But sometimes it was necessary to accomplish her objective. Business was business.
It was sad. Kind of. Her prey wouldn’t even see her coming.
She pulled her rental car up to the curb and stared through the window. She almost willed them to turn around. The one that got away and the one she willingly let slip from her fingers. Vikki wondered if they ever knew just how close they had come to unleashing her vengeful side. Now they were in for it.
She felt her cheeks redden. Elation replaced frustration. Giddy comeuppance outweighed regret. She’d do both her friends a favor and let them know she was coming. There was nothing they could do about it. Vikki shivered, delighted that she’d get to watch them squirm before she tightened her grip.
No more running. Only sweet, slow revenge, and all would be right in the world. Nothing pleased Vikki more. Finally, all her labor would wrap up on the payday of her dreams. Her most profitable puppets would once again grace her stage.
“JOANIE.” LYDIA WEPT tears of exaltation on her daughter’s neck. After a year without her, Lydia held Joan firmly in her arms as they both shook from emotion. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? Is everything okay? Did your daddy know you were coming?” Lydia smudged her mascara across her cheeks as she rubbed away her tears.
Ivy, the Everett’s adopted teenage daughter, shut the front door and gently guided the reunited family into the living room. She scooped up her burbling baby. Though only an infant, little Scout read the emotions of the room and dove in.
Joan Everett had returned home from Africa. It had been over a year since Ethan and Lydia’s only biological child had flown the nest to take on life as a missionary. After what was supposed to be a 90-day trip, Joan fell in love with the dry plains and thirsty people. She was infatuated with their needs, both physical and spiritual. She was heady with the thrill of being able to serve. But finally, she was back where her heart’s journey had started.
Lydia plopped onto her couch, nearly pulling her grown daughter to her side. Joan held her mother’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. “Which question do you want me to answer first?” she asked.
“How about how long you’re going to stay? Are you home for good?” Lydia struggled to keep her optimism out of the question, but she couldn’t. She longed for her daughter to be home with her, more than she needed her first cup of coffee every morning.
Joan shifted and steadied her voice. “You go straight to the hard questions, don’t you?” She locked eyes with her excited mother and softened her gaze. “I’m here for a month and then I’m going back. But you didn’t think I’d abandon you on your 40th birthday, did you?”
Lydia’s face trembled as she contended with expectation and contentment. Ivy’s heart went out to her. She knew how badly Lydia wanted her family to be whole again. Ivy watched her mother figure rally and regain her joy.
Lydia waved off the mention of her birthday. “I don’t care about that. I care about you and you’re home.” Lydia clapped. Scout mimicked her. “I’m so flustered. Oh Ivy, honey, I’m sorry.” Lydia turned between her girls. “Joan, this is Ivy. Ivy, this is Joan.”
The introduction wasn’t needed. Ivy and Joan had been corresponding, through Lydia’s video chat, for weeks. They were already close. “It’s nice to meet you in the flesh,” Joan said. She patted Ivy’s knee, before grabbing Scout’s sock foot. “You too, Scout.” The infant raised her chubby arms and repeatedly flexed and closed her fingers.
Ivy giggled. “She must recognize you from our video chats. Would you like to hold her?”
A huge grin stretched across Joan’s face. “Could I?”
Ivy stood and placed Scout in Joan’s arms. “Of course you can.”
“I’ve got to get my phone.” Lydia dashed to the kitchen and came back clicking photos of her three favorite girls. Many were cropped too short or snapped too quickly, but Lydia kept on clicking.
“Mom,” Joan said, interrupting Lydia’s paparazzi moment. “Why don’t you sit for a minute? Just be here with us.”
Lydia was already crying again. Her eyes repeated their outpouring. Her happiness was too much for her body to contain. In a flurry of feeling, Lydia went lightheaded and staggered. “Oops. I guess I’d better. I made myself dizzy.” She planted herself in the recliner across from the couch. She didn’t trust her trembling limbs and wanted the support the chair’s armrests had to offer.
Ivy turned away from Scout. The little girl was sticking her fingers on Joan’s eyelids. Instead, Ivy watched Lydia. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
“Scratch that,” Joan said as Scout tugged on her bottom lip. “Get Mom some water. She’ll only get shakier if we caffeinate her.”
Ivy paused in her journey. “I’ve seen that, first hand.”
The young women giggled like true sisters. Lydia was thrilled to see it come so naturally. Blood and de
stiny mixed and solidified in each other. Lydia thanked the Lord for such a surprise birthday gift. She sat in Ethan’s thinking chair and enjoyed the moment.
Joan bounced Scout softly on her knee. “It looks like you two have had quite a week. I thought you were supposed to be living it up while Dad was fishing?” Joan referred to Lydia and Ivy’s worn demeanors.
What a week it had been? Two murders, a massive dose of betrayal, and a budding love story wrapped into six and a half days. Lydia and Ivy groaned. “We’ll save that for later.”
Joan cast suspicious glances around the room. “Have they been getting into trouble, again, Scout?” she whispered to the baby, who replied with spittle filled kisses. “I’m home now. So no more crazy stuff for a few weeks. Deal?”
Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. “Like I planned any of this? I don’t run around encouraging people to murder one another?”
“Murder?” Joan spat.
“You’ll hear all about it when Kat and Flora come over tomorrow.” Ivy’s nonchalance unsettled Joan.
“I’m not sure I want to.” She shifted her worried eyes from Lydia onto her new sister. Curiosity and glee replaced her disconcerted daze. “But I do want to hear all about this Grant person.” Ivy’s cheeks pinked. “Yes, that’s what I thought,” Joan said.
Ivy averted her attention. Joan’s arrival had come at an awkward time. Grant Justice, the new guy in town, finished declaring his feelings for Ivy and left her stunned on the Everett front lawn. When Joan knocked on the front door, Ivy thought it was Grant returning. She’d opened the door saying his name only to come face to face with Joan. Ivy was mortified.
Lydia cleared her throat. “Another time. Ivy and I are famished. I’ve got bags of Chinese food getting cold in the kitchen. Let’s eat while you tell us all about Africa.”
Once in the dining room, Lydia remembered the coffee carafe she dropped at the sound of Joan’s return.
“Pooh sticks,” she said, before grabbing a towel and cleaning up her mess.
Chapter 2
AFTER TWO WEEKS, KAT Miller still hadn’t totally forgiven her besties, Lydia and Flora, for having fun without her. She knew it wasn’t completely their fault, but she’d spent a week in the literal dark whilst they went investigating without her. She fumed over the mental replay of their story while driving Ivy and Joan to the restaurant.
Con Fuego, a family owned restaurant in Ashton, was all too happy to host Lydia’s birthday celebration. The fact that Miss Jacqui’s niece was the owner helped them secure the date on short notice. Kat and the girls were arriving a day early to inspect and possibly decorate the private patio.
Kat hoped their food was good. Flora and Ivy said it was delicious. Their confidence only made Kat feel more left out. They tasted Con Fuego’s fare while Kat was mucking about in the shadows and praying for electricity. Her damp camping trip robbed Kat of more than one adventure.
Kat squelched her jealousy with this new secret. Lydia knew there was going to be a party. She even knew where it was going to be. But Kat knew something Lydia didn’t know. Furthermore, Lydia didn’t seem to have an inkling as to what the secret was. Kat felt a Grinch sized grin crack on her face.
Joan, sitting next to Kat in the Miller”s family van, noticed the shift in her facial expression. She knew Kat was up to no good.
Ivy held boxes of decorations and was too busy in her own mind to notice anyone else. Flora had Scout. For the next few hours, Ivy was just a teenager hanging out with friends. She luxuriated in the mental whitespace and reread her latest letter from Grant Justice in her memory.
“That’s it,” Joan said, pointing to the small restaurant. Kat and Ivy both jumped, startled out of their reverie. Kat cranked the steering wheel to the right and nearly sideswiped a Honda. All three women screamed as she pulled into the alleyway and around the back of the restaurant. It took a long pause to recenter the crew.
When they exited the van, the alleyway was foreboding. The sole street lamp didn’t cast a far enough glow to reach their vehicle, and the outside lighting had shut down for the night. Thankfully, a young man opened the backdoor to the restaurant. Noise and light from inside warmed the shadows. The ladies hurried toward it.
“Hello,” Kat said. “We’re here to see Maude.” A scrawny tall young man turned his startled eyes to Kat.
Stuttering to respond, surprised by the sudden bustle. He said, “For the Everett party?” Kat nodded. He pointed at her in understanding. “Sure. Maude is inside. Let me dump this and I’ll take you to her.”
Still carrying their loads of crepe and candles, they watched the boy hoist three huge bags of trash into a dumpster. He smacked his hands together after the last bundle as if that would sterilize them. “I’m Scooby. Maude’s in the kitchen. Follow me.”
Scooby didn’t wait for more introductions; he led the caravan into a narrow hallway. On the left were the bathrooms, and to the right were double swinging doors leading into a loud kitchen area.
“Do you mind waiting here?” Scooby’s gentle asking smile lit up his obviously tired eyes. He scurried into the kitchen.
Joan watched from one of the large rectangular windows in the kitchen doors. Kat watched through the other. Scooby waved toward a short, slightly plump woman sporting a loose violet bun. She waved back.
Kat could hear Scooby talking but couldn’t make out his words. He hurried to a sink and scrubbed the grime from his hands. The woman with the unnatural hair turned toward the hallway and offered a giant grin in greeting. She smacked the man standing beside her. He followed her over to Kat.
Kat’s crew back stepped to make room for the swinging door.
“You must be Kat. I’m Maude.” Maude dried her hands on a towel that was tucked into her apron, before extending them to the eldest decorator.
Kat shook her hand. “Yes, I’m Kat. This is Ivy and Joan.”
“Nice to meet you, Joan. Ivy, I think we’ve met before. I’m happy to see you.” A man peeked his head out from the kitchen, behind Maude. “This is my Santi.” Santi smiled in salutation. He kissed the top of his short wife’s head, waved, and returned to the comfort of his kingdom. “Don’t mind him. We’re both thrilled you chose us for Mrs. Everett’s party. Aunt Jacqui has told us so much about you all.”
“I can imagine,” Kat said.
Maude laughed but didn’t add anything to calm Kat’s worry over Jacqui’s wild tongue. “Follow me,” she said.
Once out of the hallway, the happy glow of the restaurant overwhelmed the decorating committee. Ivy gasped. Maude blushed. “Thanks, I love this place too.” She looked right into Ivy’s eyes and giggled.
“You’re slightly biased.” A sharply dressed man grabbed Maude by the elbows before she walked into him.
“And you’re not?” Maude said, smacking the man with her towel. “Everyone, this is Stefan. Santi and I would be lost without him. Ivy, you might remember from our last job. Usually, he doesn’t cater with me but...”
“But I do love this place. I do what I can to help it thrive.” His brown eyes trailed down to the short chef. “That includes stopping Maude from backing into innocent bystanders.”
“Or you,” Maude poked fun and continued leading the crew through the dining room.
Stefan’s laugh warmed the room, like the scent of cinnamon rolls on a winter day. Joan liked him instantly. She knew her mother would approve of their choice in the restaurant and staff.
“Stefan used to own his own restaurant. That’s a different story. But his experience keeps Santi and me from making hugely stupid mistakes. He’s more family than an employee.”
Kat thought the entire building burst with a family vibration more than a business buzz. Perhaps that was only Maude.
Maude opened a glass doorway out to the private patio area. She escorted the decoration committee around the room. “The large table for 12 will be set up just like it is right now. Then a corner booth and chairs will host eight.” Maude pointed to both the na
ked wooden tables. “We’ll, of course, have our linens on them when you arrive. We can add two small tables if you need them. They’ll seat four apiece.
The fire will be warm and ready when you get here. After coffee and dessert, we can move the large table and turn on the disco ball if you’d like to dance.”
Joan’s eyes bubbled with mischief and glee. “Mom does love a disco ball.”
Kat giggled and placed a big box on top of the largest table. “These are the decorations we were planning to use.” Kat opened the box and pulled out some tea light sets and ornate gothic candelabra.
“Very haunted mansion,” Maude said, touching the metal decoration.
“Mom loves mysteries and dramatic poetry. We thought we’d pay homage to her younger self and treat her to a little Edgar Allen Poe decor.” Joan smiled but Ivy grimaced. She’d never pictured Lydia being so dark. It didn’t fit her day to day attitude. Then again, Ivy had only lived with Lydia for a few months. However, she had to admit Lydia was more than a wee bit obsessed with mysteries.
“What a mix. A melancholy macabre poet and a disco queen. Hmm? I see why everyone is so excited to throw Lydia a party. I wish I could hang out with you all.” Maude folded her arms across her chest just as Scooby swished into the area.
“But you’ll be cooking,” he said. “Excuse me, everyone. Maude, Dave says he needs to talk to you about the bar. Something about Chris being sick.”
Maude rolled her eyes. “Not again,” she said. “Sorry, ladies. I’ll be right back. Maybe you could tell Scooby your plans.”
“Sure. Not a problem,” Kat said.
Ivy watched the chef/owner hurry faster than she’d believed her short legs could carry her out of the patio and into the dining room. It reminded her of Scout trying to crawl along the living room floor and retrieve some contraband before Ivy could reach her.
Scooby clapped his hands together and flashed his happiest smile. “What can I do to help?”