Table of Contents
Unseasonably Cold
She had just paused to look through one of the cabins windows at the period furnishings inside when she heard a man say, loudly and distinctly, If you try anything like that, Ill kill you.
Phyllis stiffened in surprise at hearing such a threat expressed like that. The mans voice came from in front of the cabin. Phyllis was torn between the urge to see what was going on and the natural caution that told her to stay right where she was, out of the would-be murderers sight.
As she stepped around the corner of the cabin, she saw a man standing there. He laughed and said, No, really, Ill kill you. He seemed to be talking to himself, because there was no one else anywhere around except Phyllis. Then she noticed the earphone tucked into his ear and realized he was talking on one of those Bluetooth cell phones, or whatever they were called. As Phyllis watched, the man put some sort of pill in his mouth, then took a drink from the water bottle in his hand. He laughed again, then froze as he noticed her standing there....
PRAISE FOR THE FRESH-BAKED MYSTERIES
The whodunit is fun and the recipes [are] mouthwatering.
The Best Reviews
Washburn has a refreshing way with words and knows how to tell an exciting story.
Midwest Book Review
Delightful, [with a] realistic small-town vibe [and a] vibrant narrative.... A Peach of a Murder runs the full range of emotions, so be prepared to laugh and cry with this one!
The Romance Readers Connection
I really enjoyed Murder by the Slice.... Its got a nice plot with lots of twists.
James Reasoner
Other Fresh-Baked Mysteries
Killer Crab Cakes
The Christmas Cookie Killer
Murder by the Slice
A Peach of a Murder
This book is dedicated to
my husband, James Reasoner,
and
my two daughters, Shayna and Joanna,
who are very tolerant of my craziness
when deadlines loom.
Chapter 1
One thing you never forgot about being a parent, Phyllis Newsom thought, was the feeling of helplessness that comes over you when your child is sick. Of course, Bobby was her grandson, not her son, but that didnt matter. He felt miserable, and she had done everything she could to make him feel better, but he still sobbed in pain as she held him and carried him back and forth across the dimly lit living room of her house, trying to calm him down.
Itll be all right, Bobby, she told the four-year-old. Dont worry; everything will be just fine. Youll be all well soon.
Not soon enough to suit her, though. The pediatrician had said that it might be a week or more before Bobbys ear infection cleared up. And it would have to heal on its own, because this wasnt like the old days when doctors prescribed antibiotics for such ailments. Phyllis remembered giving her son, Mike, the wonderful pink liquid when he was little and came down with something like this. That stuff seemed to cure anything.
Now the doctors claimed that it really didnt, and Phyllis supposed that they ought to know what they were talking about. They were doctors, after all. But she missed being able to feel like she was accomplishing something, like she was helping her child get well sooner.
Ah, well. She sighed and held Bobby closer, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. She was wearing a nice thick robe over her pajamas, so she supposed it almost felt like a pillow to him.
The sound of footsteps made her glance toward the stairs. Sam Fletchers long legs came into view, followed by the rest of his lanky form. He was dressed in pajamas, a robe, and slippers, too, although his were a nice manly brown rather than the purple of Phylliss nightclothes.
Thought I heard the little one carryin on, Sam said as he came from the foyer into the living room.
Im sorry, Sam. He just cant rest comfortably with his ear hurting that way. I gave him some pain reliever like the doctor said, but ...
Sam nodded. Yeah, I reckon it must hurt, all right. He held out his arms. Here, let me hold him for a while.
Phyllis hesitated. Not because she didnt trust Sam, of course. In the nearly two and a half years that he had rented a room in her house here in Weatherford, Texas, she had grown to know him very well. He was both strong and gentle, just the sort of man who wouldnt think twice about offering to comfort a sick child. But Bobby was her responsibility, not his.
Its the middle of the night, she told Sam. You should be sleeping. Ill be all right.
A smile spread across Sams rugged face. Shoot, I wasnt asleep anyway. Seems like the older I get, the less easy it is for me to sleep. I was on the computer lookin at YouTube. You know they got clips on there from all the TV shows I used to watch back in the fifties? I hadnt seen George Burns and Gracie Allen in a long time.
Phyllis couldnt help but smile back at him. They were roughly the same age, in their late sixties, and it wasnt unusual for either of them to discover something new and wonderful on the Internet that most younger people had probably known about for years.
Ill have to check that out sometime, she said. Are you sure you dont mind... ?
Sam motioned with his fingers to indicate that she should give Bobby to him.
Well, all right. She handed the whimpering youngster over.
Bobby immediately threw his arms around Sams neck and buried his face against the mans shoulder. His sobs began to subside.
I think Im jealous, Phyllis said with a laugh. He appears to like you more than he does me.
Oh, I wouldnt say that. He just senses that were kindred spirits.
Phyllis raised an eyebrow. How so?
Normally, I sleep like a baby, too. I kick and fret all night.
I wouldnt know, Phyllis said as she arched an eyebrow.
Sam chuckled as he started walking slowly back and forth across the living room. Bobby quieted even more. Within a few minutes, he appeared to be sound asleep.
Sam looked at the boy, then grinned at Phyllis. Say good night, Gracie, he whispered.
Good night, Gracie, she responded. She held her arms out. Ill put him in bed.
No, I got him. We start passin him around like a football, hes liable to wake up again.
Sam left the living room and started carefully up the stairs. A couple of days earlier, when Bobby had come to stay with Phyllis, Sam and Mike had climbed up into the attic of the old house and brought down the crib Mike had slept in twenty-some-odd years earlier. Bobby had complained that he wasnt a baby and shouldnt have to sleep in a crib, but that was really the only place Phyllis had for him to sleep. They had compromised by leaving the sides down when they put the crib in Phylliss bedroom.
She was in the kitchen brewing some herbal tea when Sam came back downstairs. Figured Id find you in here, he said.
