Someone Cruel
in Coyote Creek: The Accidental Detective Book 3
Turning fifty in her childhood
bedroom wasn’t on her bucket list…
Kate Tessler is convinced her sister is trying to kill her.
In fact, she might prefer death to Jen’s “50 for 50 Challenge,” where Kate will
try fifty new things throughout the year she turns fifty. Still adjusting to
her new underemployed life back in her childhood home in Phoenix, the last
thing Kate wants is to prepare for paddle boarding, especially when she
receives an anonymous message claiming that Mayor Todd Paradise is taking
bribes. The author claims to have proof, including photos, and challenges Kate
to publish the story.
Could good guy Todd, Kate’s almost boyfriend,
really be corrupt or is someone trying to set him up? Kate sets out to discover
the truth, with help from her multi-generational, unconventional, and often
unhelpful crew. She thrived reporting from war zones as an international war
correspondent, but can she survive a deadly fundraising party, a close
encounter with a taser, a turn at an open mic night, and a hundred-pound dog
named Whiskers?
“I loved this story so much. It had a
bit more edge and danger to it, but also the charm and humor. I am always so
astonished how you weave in all the generations of the growing detective
agency—you give everyone something to do, a way to be involved and validated
and yet we don’t lose focus on our protagonist.” – Sinclair Jayne, author
Tule
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mystery short story set in the world of “The Accidental Detective” series,
information about the series, and the first chapter of book 1. After that are
three fun, short stories originally written for children. You’ll also
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and Love at the Cat Café, a free 30-page sweet romance set in
the world of the Furrever Friends cat café, and “22
Recipes From The Cat Café.”
Chapter 1 Excerpt:
“You’re trying to kill me,” I said.
After a lifetime of desert living, I had not expected a watery
death. I’d grown up in Arizona, spent much of my adult life as a war
correspondent in the Middle East, and had returned to Arizona a few months
earlier after a bomb tore up my leg. Now my sister had determined that I should
do a “fifty at fifty” challenge, where I tried fifty new things the year I
turned fifty. It was hard to say no to Jen, mainly because she ignored the word
and rolled right over you anyway. My birthday was a
couple of weeks away, so we’d started early. At least she was paying for
this “adventure” (in the financial sense; I might wind up paying in other
ways), and she was doing it with me.
“Don’t be a baby,” Jen said. “Lots of people do paddleboarding.
Children do it.”
“Uh, you do realize it’s called stand-up paddleboarding?
Have you seen me stand lately?”
Jen gave a dramatic sigh. “You’re fine. You’re getting too
dependent on the cane anyway.”
Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who had to use it. To be
honest, my leg had gotten stronger over the last few months. I still limped and
bumped into walls when I first got up after sleeping or sitting for a while,
but once I’d taken twenty steps or so, I could usually walk straight. And the
paddleboard instructor knew about my . . . situation. I still hesitated to use
the word disability. It didn’t seem fair to claim that status when my
injury was sudden and hopefully temporary. Plus, I didn’t want to be
disabled. Granted, who did? Most people probably faced that future kicking and
screaming, or in my case, punching and screaming, since kicking got harder when
you had a bad leg.
The instructor got each of us set up with a life vest and a safety
whistle. The whistle was required by law, in theory to warn boaters, but I
figured it would also let me call for help if I got in trouble. An ankle leash
would keep the board close, and the board could also be used as a flotation
device. The paddle would help us move out into the lake and back again. Then we
had hats, sunglasses, and long-sleeved shirts for sun protection. I’d gone into
war zones with less equipment.
While the guide, Misty, helped the other people in the group, I
quickly checked my email on my phone. I was hoping for a response from my boss
at the Associated Press on my latest submission. I
hadn’t been able to return to the field, and I reluctantly had to admit I might
never be fit enough for that kind of reporting. As if the injury weren’t bad
enough, my body didn’t bounce back nearly as quickly anymore. I’d started
writing longer, more in-depth stories targeted at magazines, but I hoped to give
my AP boss an excuse to keep me on a little longer since I needed the health
insurance I wouldn’t get as a freelancer.
No response from her. I did see an email marked Urgent: Private, which was intriguing
enough for a quick look.
Mayor Todd Paradise is taking bribes. Do you have the courage to
publish the story?
I went cold, and not from the cool breeze off the lake. Todd
Paradise had been a year behind me in high school. He’d gone from junior class
president thirty years ago to mayor of our local town within the greater
Phoenix area. I’d been spending time with him since I got home, and he seemed
as nice and honest as ever.
The note wasn’t signed, and the email address didn’t provide any
clues to the identity of the sender. It would be easy to dismiss the accusation,
but that wouldn’t do Todd any favors. I could see three possibilities. Todd was
taking bribes, in which case the story should be told, regardless of my
personal feelings. Todd had done something that led someone to incorrectly
believe he was taking bribes, in which case it was better to find out what was
going on now, before the accusations became public. Or someone was targeting
Todd with lies, in which case he needed to know that.
I emailed back: I’ll need proof and I need to know who you are.
“Time to put your phones away,” Misty said. Many people had been
taking pictures of themselves or each other as they geared up. Now Misty
collected the phones to stow them in the van. None of us could guarantee we
wouldn’t take a spill into the water, and I could pretty much guarantee I
would. The company had waterproof cameras for sale for those who wanted to
record their adventures. Jen had one, of course.
We practiced getting onto the board and standing up several times
on land before wading into the water. “I’m going to get you for this,” I
whispered to Jen. “Be honest. Your real business plan is to make money off of
humiliating pictures of me, isn’t it? You realize I don’t have any money to pay
blackmail.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “The real money is in ads on YouTube
videos. I’ll need you to go viral though, so make it good.”
We spread out in the shallow water, far enough apart that if one
of us fell, we wouldn’t crash into the next person. Then Misty led us through
the process of getting onto the board in a kneeling position, then crouching,
and finally standing.
My muscles strained with the effort to balance. Falling into the
water wouldn’t actually kill me, but I wanted to prove something, if only to
myself. At the very least, I didn’t want to be the first person in the group to
fall.
“See? I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” Jen said.
I very slowly and carefully turned to look at her.
“Hold on. I want a photo to prove this happened.” She shifted her
paddle to her left hand and fumbled with the waterproof camera strapped around
her wrist.
My board bobbed gently in the waves at the edge of the lake. My
bad leg ached as I tried to keep my knees bent and my back straight, as
instructed. I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace.
As Jen got the camera up to her eye level, she wobbled. Her paddle
smacked against the side of the board. Her arms flailed, the camera flying to
the end of its wrist strap.
Jen plunged into the cold lake water.
She came up spluttering and tossing her head. I laughed so hard I
had to kneel on my board and grab the sides. The water rocked the board and
splashed my hands and knees, but at least I didn’t fall off.
When I could breathe again, I said, “Don’t forget to get a photo
of yourself. I want to prove this happened.”
Jen grinned, pointed the camera toward herself, and took a picture
as she leaned on the board with one arm.
Maybe this fifty at fifty thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Something
Shady at Sunshine Haven made Barnes & Noble's list of Handpicked Favorites
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“This is a
remarkably enjoyable start to a brand new cozy mystery series.” ~Books a Plenty Book Reviews
“A great start to
a new series... Readers will enjoy this new cozy mystery and eagerly wait for
more sleuthing with Kate and the Coffee Shop Irregulars!” ~Reading is my Superpower
“A great read for
those who want more character development and mystery, and less romance.”
“Bock’s story
offers proof positive that no one outgrows the need for more maturity and
self-discovery.” ~Rebecca M Douglas, Author
“This is a
fast-paced book that keeps you thinking. It’s a great jump start for this new
series. I will anxiously await the second book.” ~Socrates’ Book Reviews
“Something Shady
at Sunshine Haven by Kris Bock grabbed me from the first page to the last.” ~Novels Alive
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