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  Welcome to Spicetown

  A Spicetown Mystery

  Sheri Richey

  Copyright © 2019 Sheri S. Richey. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by an information storage or retrieval system now known or hereto after invented—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper—without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For further information, contact the publisher: Amazon Publishing.

  The author assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions that are inadvertent or inaccurate. This is a work of fiction and is not intended to reflect actual events or persons.

  ISBN: 9781795303538

  Cover art by Mariah Sinclair

  Editing by Celtic Frog Editing

  Chapter One

  With another year behind her, Cora Mae Bingham logged off her computer and sat back in her chair with a sigh on her lips as the screen display changed to a peaceful ocean view. At the end of her tenth year as mayor of Spicetown, it was time to make plans for the future.

  She brushed crumbs from her lap, residuals from a holiday cookie she had snacked on earlier, after making the silent vow of millions that she would be healthier and thinner in the coming year.

  She always enjoyed a fresh new year, but tonight she was feeling weary. Having city hall closed for the holidays should have been restful, but instead she found that taking time to relax made it more difficult when it was time to return to work. If she let herself step out of those daily habits, she truly saw how taxing they were.

  The holidays were stressful and dragged her back to memories of younger days before she carried so much responsibility for the citizens of Spicetown. A new year felt like a clean slate. With a rest over New Year’s Day, she’d be ready to start fresh.

  “Mayor?” Amanda Morgan, Cora’s assistant, stuck her head around the edge of the door with an apologetic wrinkle in her forehead. “I know you’re ready to leave, but Mr. Salzman is out in the lobby and he’s asking to see you.”

  “I guess the year wasn’t meant to be over yet,” Cora said mostly to herself as she sighed again and leaned back in her chair. “That’s okay, Amanda. You can send him in.”

  Cora opened her lower desk drawer and pulled out her large satchel purse as Harvey Salzman walked through her door.

  “What’s up, Saucy? I’ve had a long day and I’m ready to call it a year.” Proclaiming the end of the year gave her a silent pleasure.

  “I know it’s late and I apologize Mayor, but this couldn’t wait until next year.”

  Harvey Salzman, Saucy to his friends, sat down in the chair across from Cora. With his hands resting on his kneecaps, he bounced the heel of one foot nervously. He was a thin, lanky, but energetic senior citizen, passionate about his community. Cora Mae imagined he recorded every incident of littering and jaywalking that occurred in Spicetown. Anxiety shimmered around him like a neon glow.

  “I’m not gone yet, so let’s wrap this year up. How can I help you?”

  “Well, somebody stole the stop sign at the end of Dill Seed Drive and that’s a dangerous corner to not have a stop sign. It can’t wait until next year. There might be a wreck, especially tonight with it being New Year’s Eve. You know there will be intoxicated people around and they might just drive right into my house in the middle of the night! How can I ever go to sleep for the worry? It was probably those kids I told you about. They are up to no good. Loitering around, looking for trouble—”

  “Did you report the theft to the police?” Cora interrupted before Saucy could recycle the story and pulled off her reading glasses to let her neck chain catch them.

  “Oh, yes ma’am,” Saucy said with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Chief Connie sent me right over here to catch you before you left for the night, so you could replace that sign.”

  Cora stifled a smile. She had to give Chief Conrad Harris a point for that move. She had been prepared to do the same thing to him, but Connie beat her to it.

  “Ok, Saucy. I’ll take care of it.” Cora rose from her chair and put her bag on her shoulder. She peeked out of the window between the large metal venetian blinds at Ole’ Thyme Italian Restaurant across the street. It had been dark outside for almost an hour already and the crowd at the restaurant was picking up. Cora wouldn’t be getting dinner there tonight.

  “I certainly hope so, Mayor. I have to get my sleep and I know I won’t get a wink until this problem is corrected. You know I appreciate everything you do for this town.”

  “Happy New Year, Saucy. I need to get home now.” Cora held out her arm to usher Harvey Salzman through her door and noticed Amanda had already made her escape. Saucy continued to reiterate the same point as if his thoughts ran on a hamster wheel until Cora made her way down the back hallway to the employee parking in the back of the building, leaving Saucy to exit through the front lobby.

  Before walking out the back door, she stopped and peered into Jimmy Kole’s office. Jimmy was in charge of Spicetown Streets and Alleys and his day had lasted even longer than hers.

  “Hey, Jimmy. Do you have anybody still out at the shed?” Cora hoped there were still city employees on the clock, so she could get the stop sign hung without an act of Congress.

  “Yeah, there are two guys still out there gassing up the trucks. You need something?”

  “I do. Would you please call out there and tell them to go hang a stop sign at Dill Seed Drive and Sage Street? Somebody stole it and Saucy is up a tree about it.”

  “Does it have to be done tonight? It’s already dark.”

  “Do you want me to give Saucy your home address?” Cora laughed as incredulity spread across Jimmy’s face.

  “I’m on it.” Jimmy lifted the phone receiver to his ear with a grin showing off the dimple in his left cheek.

  “I knew I could count on you.” Cora left through the back door with a small smile on her lips as she buttoned up her coat. That was the closure she needed to finish the year out.

  §

  Conrad Harris poured water in the back of the coffeemaker in his office and studied it until he heard it trickle. He yearned for the warm scent to wrap around him even if he rarely got a chance to drink it.

  The rest of the Spicetown Police force drank coffee in the dispatch room. Ordering everyone not to touch the Chief’s coffee had worked out well for him. He added a touch of cinnamon and a vanilla creamer to make it everyone’s envy. There were few joys in his daily life and this was one of them.

  He was certain he would need the coffee as he expected a late night. New Year’s Eve meant multiple noise complaints, but he couldn’t ignore the raw wariness that niggled inside him. He had learned over the years to give this his full attention.

  On the surface, it shouldn’t be a difficult night since the city wasn’t staging an event or doing any New Year’s Eve display. The new sheriff had decided to hold a county firework display and discouraged the cities in the county from competing with him.

  Conrad hadn’t voted for this new sheriff, and he suspected the new sheriff probably realized that. Bobby Bell was not a stranger to Conrad. He had known him for years when they had worked together as police officers in the city. Bobby made reckless choices and his ego seemed to do his thinking for him.

  Conrad wasn’t disappointed the mayor had taken the hint and advertised the county fireworks plan to the citizens of Spicetown rather than initiate any display herself. He supposed she did it to save money, but he knew from experience that it would have been a lot of extra work for him. It was trouble he didn’t need.

  “Hey, Chief,” Officer Hobson said as h
e came in the side door and down the hall past Conrad’s office.

  “Wink,” Conrad called out as he saw him walk by. “Stop by on your way back out.”

  “Sure thing, Chief.”

  Wink, Conrad’s unofficial right-hand man, had one eye that didn’t open more than half way. He always told everyone that it was his good eye and no one ever knew if he was joking or not.

  Conrad poured his fresh coffee, breathing in deeply over the cup until the healing warmth floated over him and waited for Wink to return. Maybe it was time to try again to get the City Council to consider promoting him to lieutenant. Sadly, Wink did the work without the title or pay.

  “Hey, Chief,” Wink said as he returned to perch his tall lanky frame against the edge of the door to Conrad’s office with a travel cup of coffee in his hand.

  “Wink, have you been through the intersection of Dill Seed and Sage Street? The stop sign was down earlier and I didn’t know if the city got a new one up yet or not.”

  “I haven’t been that way, but I’ll check while I’m out and let you know. Saucy must have been off his watch.” Wink grinned as he turned for the side door.

  “Everybody has to sleep sometime.”

  Conrad wondered when he would get that chance. He sipped his coffee and tried to remember the last good sleep he’d had. So much for small town chief being a relaxing job. If he had something or someone waiting for him to retire, he might not have stayed for thirteen years. Here I am, still married to the job.

  Chapter Two

  Cora slipped off her shoes and sat back in her favorite chair. She tossed the chenille throw over her legs and put her feet up in relief. With her cheese and crackers arranged on a plate, she stirred her tea to watch it tunnel deeply in the center.

  The fatigue was deep, but she wasn’t sleepy. Her mind was sharply spinning out the day’s events to make room for her plans for next year. She lifted her favorite mug and let the rising heat warm the tip of her nose. This was her favorite moment of the day. She was content to sit in silence with nothing to interrupt her thoughts and marvel at how wonderful the lack of sound could be.

  There had been staff shortages that day. Those that had worked had been debating whether field peas or northern beans were required to bring good luck in the future year and who would win the football games. Cora was just thankful for a day the city hall would be closed. She planned to sit right there in her comfortable chair with her cat rubbing against her calves until she had to return to work.

  She expected her plans for next year to meet staunch resistance, but they would bring needed change to Spicetown. There were several things that needed improvement, and she had ignored them long enough. This might be her last term and her last chance to make a difference. She would have to be strong to get through it.

  She wanted to get the local library connected to the interstate library exchange and form a citizen’s group to support the animal shelter. She wanted to fix up the old popcorn factory building the city had taken ownership of, so it could be used for banquets and meetings. She wanted to have the flowers in the planters around the main street replaced with the spices their climate would tolerate and plaques posted identifying each plant. She wanted Spicetown listed in the state travel directory and knew she would have to work with the Chamber of Commerce President Miriam Landry to get that done even though that would be a personal struggle. She needed sidewalks repaired, the annual water test order, the website updated, and the sewer pipe on Allspice Avenue replaced.

  If it was the last thing she did, she wanted the statue of John Spicer erected on Paprika Parkway before she retired. John Spicer was the man her town was named after and she wanted that known to visitors. People coming through Spicetown and seeing all the street names and businesses left thinking that Spicetown grew spices when that was not the case at all. Although she promoted the uniqueness of the town’s flavor, she wanted people to understand it was not the origins of the town name.

  She had so many plans, each competing with the other for her time and attention, that she constantly re-prioritized them when battling for the funds to implement them. This year she was going to accomplish something, not just keep the town running as she had been.

  When her thoughts drifted back to the debate of northern beans or field peas, she gave up on sleep and got up to get her notebook. She needed to visualize concrete plans and make her own good luck for the next year.

  §

  Conrad finished his Styrofoam-plated dinner from the Ole’ Thyme Italian Restaurant and brushed the garlic bread crumbs from his fingers as one of his dispatchers, Georgia Marks, tilted her head around the door frame of his office door.

  “Hey, Chief.” Georgia stood on one foot poised to run back to her dispatch cubicle if the radio went off.

  “Yeah?”

  “Wink said to tell you that it’s all good.” Georgia paused to see if Conrad showed recognition in his face and nodded.

  “Okay, Georgie. Thanks.” Looking up, he saw Georgia had run off without a sound from her thick rubber-soled shoes.

  Conrad assumed Wink was conveying that the stop sign was replaced. He wasn’t surprised. Cora always took care of business.

  Saucy was a character, but he had a pure heart. He wasn’t trying to be a pest and most of his wishes were simple things. His persistence made it futile to ignore the requests and the fact he was usually right about what needed to be done caused additional angst. He actually meant to help them do their jobs, but sometimes Conrad felt like groaning when he saw him sitting in the office waiting on him. Regretting his reaction, he was certain Cora felt the same. They had dealt with Saucy for many years.

  When his phone rang, he expected it might be Wink relaying the message again. Wink never trusted Georgia to do anything.

  “Chief Harris here.”

  “Well, hello Connie. How the heck are you?” The words were laced with insincerity and the sound of Bobby Bell’s voice made the satisfied result of Conrad’s dinner turn unsettled.

  “Very well, Sheriff. What can I do for you this holiday evening?” Conrad tried to put a smile to his words. He was not going to let Bobby’s evil spirit invade him. Things had been going well so far, and it had been dark for several hours.

  “Got a little issue here and just wanted to get the word around— Not that it would necessarily involve you, but the county has had a theft tonight and they’re running.”

  “You think they’re running this way? Do you have a description I can put out to patrol?”

  “No, we’ve got no description. Someone made off with the county fireworks display. We just know it’s gone.”

  Conrad was alarmed yet had to stifle a guffaw at the same time. Someone had stolen Bobby’s party toys and a part of him was delighted. The fact that someone might bring all that fire power into his town however, made him sit a bit uncomfortable.

  “I’ll get the word out to patrol.” The word was they had nothing, but Conrad swallowed his cutting remarks. If the tables were turned, Bobby Bell wouldn’t be as professional but he’d take the high road. Whoever stole the truck full of rockets and flares couldn’t use them without being found very quickly.

  Conrad called Wink on his cell phone and shared the sheriff’s news. He didn’t want it going out on the radio but he wanted patrol to be aware. Wink would get the word around where it needed to go. Saucy wasn’t the only one in town with a scanner and he didn’t want to be the news source reporting Bobby Bell’s failure. He’d let the newspapers take that credit.

  He got up to stretch his legs and clean his coffee cup when his phone rang again. Dispatch had been taxed all evening with calls about illegal fireworks. It happened every year. He only hoped someone wasn’t reaching out to him about that.

  “Chief Harris,” he barked into the phone hoping to convey he was too busy for petty matters.

  “Chief, I got a little added info that I wanted to pass on.” Conrad froze at the sound of the sheriff’s voice again. He really didn’t
want to get involved in his problem. They had never worked well together and whatever came of this would somehow become his fault.

  “What do you have?”

  “Well, we’re hearing it may have been a white pickup that hooked up the flatbed and drove off. A lady living out on Eagle Bay said she thought she saw a white pickup go by pulling a bed and maybe back again.”

  There were only four occupied homes out on that road and no through traffic. If they pulled back out, they had to go to Paxton or Spicetown and a thief wouldn’t go back to the scene of the crime.

  “So, you’re thinking they might be coming into Spicetown? I’ll have everyone keep an eye out and call if we see anything.”

  “Thanks, Connie. I appreciate it.” Bobby almost sounded sincere. Maybe he was realizing this theft would make a fool of him when he had to cancel the display. He only had an hour until show time.

  “Oh—ah, Connie. No radio traffic on this, okay?”

  “Of course not,” Conrad assured him. It was a shame Bobby couldn’t be this humble all the time. He might be tolerable to work with.

  Conrad disconnected and called Wink again to relay the new details to him for patrol. The white pickup was rippling through his mind and he thought he might just drive around himself for a while. Putting his glasses back in his shirt pocket and hitching up his pants, he grabbed his jacket and headed out.

  Eagle Bay was just outside of Spicetown city limits offering lake access to the few remaining houses. Conrad had spent hours down there when he had first moved to town. Bing, Cora Mae’s late husband, had shown him the prime fishing holes. He was acquainted with the locals and was pretty sure he could guess who reported seeing the truck drive by.

  Taking the rounded corner off the main highway to follow Eagle Bay Road, he spotted a county patrol car parked exactly where he expected— at Hazel Linton’s house. That was where the deputy needed to be and Conrad coasted quietly by, hoping to pass unnoticed.

  At the end of Eagle Bay Road there was a circle turnaround in sandy soil that offered an easy way to return to the highway, but those familiar with the area knew there was an unofficial boat launch nearby. Fishermen used it all the time to get their small boats in the water and time had worn the slope down to a smooth angle.