Cake and Taxes: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Book: Cake and Taxes: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF
Author: K. P. Hilton
her coffee and held her tongue as Julie rambled on.
“Well, Sheila tells her that Marge used to hang around at Bacchus Jaden's place a lot. That was around the time she and her husband weren't getting along too well. According to Sheila, Marge wasn't exactly as strict on his businesses appraisals as she was with everyone else, if you know what I mean.”
“She was undervaluing his properties?”
“That's what Sheila insinuated. She also said that Marge eventually told him that she wasn't going to see him anymore and that the appraisal district was putting in new software that compared like-kind businesses from other counties or some such. Anyhow, the gist of it was that even in a small county like Magnum, the 21 st century way of doing things was creeping in and she didn't plan on getting caught.”
“What happened then?” Betty asked.
“Not much. Bacchus didn't take the news well, but life went on. Well, until Monday when Marge died.”
“Did Sheila, or anyone else, report any of this to the police?”
“My guess is not, since it's only town gossip. But who knows?” Julie sneezed. “Excuse me, allergies are acting up. Hey, sorry to cut you short. But we're closing up. Gotta run.”
Betty could barely hear Julie from the tornado of thoughts going through her mind. She knew that she had to dig deeper, but at least this was a start.
“Yo, Betty, you still there?” Julie asked.
“What? Oh, yes. Thanks so much for your help,” Betty said, distracted by the scenario that was unfolding in front of her. “I’m good. Have a good evening,”
“No sweat. Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, the line went dead. Betty put her phone away, got her things and headed out the door.
Chapter 9
That evening, Betty was checking inventory and straightening up at the shop shortly after George had closed out the register and left for the evening.
Her ruminations were interrupted by the opening of the door at the front. Though the CLOSED sign hung prominently in the window, she sometimes left the front door unlocked since it was a small town and people generally respected everyone's sense of time and space. After the incident which followed, that policy would change.
Looking up from her work behind the counter she saw the faces of two men she didn’t recognize. The first one looked to be in his early fifties and was balding with a stomach that pushed against a T-shirt featuring an ’80s hair band currently on tour in Dallas. The second one looked a few years younger, was thinner, and sported a light gray jacket that overlapped the top of a pair of well-worn jeans.
“Howdy, gents,” Betty said, her Texas accent on full display. “I’m not open again until tomorrow. Feel free to stop by anytime after nine o'clock.”
The first man casually scanned the room. “We’re here to find out why you’re looking into the death of Marge Nelson,” he said in a raspy voice.
Betty's heart pounded hard in her chest. “Do tell,” she said, trying her best to keep her expression neutral.
“The police are investigating. There's no need for busybodies like yourself to interfere and muddy the waters, so to speak.”
“The Yellow Rose police are good,” Betty replied. “But they always appreciate the help of citizens. Encourage it, in fact.”
“Not this time,” the second man said.
Betty gave the men some thought. “Peaches and Cream,” she said with a nod.
“What’d you say?” said the first man, his brow furrowed.
“No wait,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Peaches and Herb is what I meant. American vocalist duo from the ’70s. You,” she said pointing to the first man, “remind me of Herb.”
“I don’t believe this,” the man said.
“Your friend reminds me of Peaches. Not sure why, since Peaches was a woman. Think it may have to do with the way he sauntered in. No
“Well, Sheila tells her that Marge used to hang around at Bacchus Jaden's place a lot. That was around the time she and her husband weren't getting along too well. According to Sheila, Marge wasn't exactly as strict on his businesses appraisals as she was with everyone else, if you know what I mean.”
“She was undervaluing his properties?”
“That's what Sheila insinuated. She also said that Marge eventually told him that she wasn't going to see him anymore and that the appraisal district was putting in new software that compared like-kind businesses from other counties or some such. Anyhow, the gist of it was that even in a small county like Magnum, the 21 st century way of doing things was creeping in and she didn't plan on getting caught.”
“What happened then?” Betty asked.
“Not much. Bacchus didn't take the news well, but life went on. Well, until Monday when Marge died.”
“Did Sheila, or anyone else, report any of this to the police?”
“My guess is not, since it's only town gossip. But who knows?” Julie sneezed. “Excuse me, allergies are acting up. Hey, sorry to cut you short. But we're closing up. Gotta run.”
Betty could barely hear Julie from the tornado of thoughts going through her mind. She knew that she had to dig deeper, but at least this was a start.
“Yo, Betty, you still there?” Julie asked.
“What? Oh, yes. Thanks so much for your help,” Betty said, distracted by the scenario that was unfolding in front of her. “I’m good. Have a good evening,”
“No sweat. Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, the line went dead. Betty put her phone away, got her things and headed out the door.
Chapter 9
That evening, Betty was checking inventory and straightening up at the shop shortly after George had closed out the register and left for the evening.
Her ruminations were interrupted by the opening of the door at the front. Though the CLOSED sign hung prominently in the window, she sometimes left the front door unlocked since it was a small town and people generally respected everyone's sense of time and space. After the incident which followed, that policy would change.
Looking up from her work behind the counter she saw the faces of two men she didn’t recognize. The first one looked to be in his early fifties and was balding with a stomach that pushed against a T-shirt featuring an ’80s hair band currently on tour in Dallas. The second one looked a few years younger, was thinner, and sported a light gray jacket that overlapped the top of a pair of well-worn jeans.
“Howdy, gents,” Betty said, her Texas accent on full display. “I’m not open again until tomorrow. Feel free to stop by anytime after nine o'clock.”
The first man casually scanned the room. “We’re here to find out why you’re looking into the death of Marge Nelson,” he said in a raspy voice.
Betty's heart pounded hard in her chest. “Do tell,” she said, trying her best to keep her expression neutral.
“The police are investigating. There's no need for busybodies like yourself to interfere and muddy the waters, so to speak.”
“The Yellow Rose police are good,” Betty replied. “But they always appreciate the help of citizens. Encourage it, in fact.”
“Not this time,” the second man said.
Betty gave the men some thought. “Peaches and Cream,” she said with a nod.
“What’d you say?” said the first man, his brow furrowed.
“No wait,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Peaches and Herb is what I meant. American vocalist duo from the ’70s. You,” she said pointing to the first man, “remind me of Herb.”
“I don’t believe this,” the man said.
“Your friend reminds me of Peaches. Not sure why, since Peaches was a woman. Think it may have to do with the way he sauntered in. No
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