Felony Fruitcake: Until The Fat Ladies Sing, #5

By Linda Kozar

When Sue Jan and the gals at the Crown of Glory Beauty Salon and Boutique set out the egg nog and fruitcake at their annual Christmas Soiree, they have no idea the town’s senior citizen playboy, Bubba Bustalet will be hit on the noggin with the fruitcake before the night is over. Sue Jan goes solo solving the mystery and is soon at her wit’s end between Wachita’s know-it-all new sheriff, Bubba’s senior-rita fan club, and all the tempting holiday food threatening to ruin her diet. Will Sue Jan find the felonious fruitcake felon before the church choir sings the last fa-la-la?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kozy Kozar Mysteries
• Release date: Aug 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386974239

Book preview

Dedication

Dedicated to the one I love—Michael Kozar, my sweet husband, and many thanks to Lisa Godfrees—who edits with mad Jedi skills.

Description: Macintosh HD:Users:lindakozar:Desktop:tinyfortunecookie.jpg

Chapter One

Fruit Good. Cake Good. Fruitcake—Ugh.

In a rush to close up the salon, I hurried out the back door and across the dark parking lot to do one last chore. As if I didn’t have enough to do!

I was hotter’n a hen on a hot rock, as my best friend Lovita would say. Slipping in and out of my kitten heels because of the lotion I’d slathered on my feet earlier, I muttered and complained out loud all the way to the dumpster.

Aack! I can’t believe that woman. Telling me, Sue Jan Madson, the mayor’s wife, I have to haul the garbage out. And in my good Christmas clothes! The last thing I need is garbage juice all over my new dress. I own the place. I shouldn’t have to haul out the trash.

Suddenly my right foot thudded into something solid. Then my knee buckled and I almost tripped over it. Peering down, past the heavy garbage bag in my hands, I couldn’t make out what was in my way. So I did two things.

Now, you would think that one of those things would have been to drop the bag easy peas-y, but I didn’t. For some reason, putting the bag down never occurred to me. The first thing I did was squint ‘cause I didn’t have my reading glasses handy. And the second thing I did was use the flashlight feature on my cell phone to make out what was in my way.

I probably sucked in at least a gallon of air at the sight. A man’s body was sprawled out on the gravel, facedown. A man’s body?  My mind worked in a sort of slow motion from that point. Like them Ninja fighters you see in movies when they’re fixing to karate chop the bad guys only they freeze frame up in the air for what seems like forever.

The black bag slipped from my hand like a giant prune. My mouth came unhinged, and to my surprise a shrill sound, kind of like a steamboat whistle came out of it. I’m not kidding.

By the time the rest of the folks lingering at the Christmas party came to my rescue, I was fixing to hyperventilate. Maybe it had something to do with all that air I sucked in. But I was thankful to see Wachita’s brand new sheriff among the crowd. Somehow the sight of a lawman made me feel better even though a dead body was only a kitten heel away.

Sheriff Rufus Bodeen crouched down next to the body. The man on the gravel was dressed in a red sweater and plaid pants, a combo that tripped a memory switch in my mind. But while I was thinking, the sheriff hefted the body over and a collective gasp from everyone vacuumed all the air away.

The sight of the man’s face made my stomach do a tilt-a-whirl. But I took a deep breath and found my voice. Bubba Bustalet—dead? No, it can’t be. I just can’t be.

Charla, Jolene, Rose, Lula Mae and a handful of others gathered for a closer look.

The sheriff looked up at me, two fingers pressed on the man’s neck. The man ain’t dead. He’s knocked out cold for sure though.

Oh, thank God he’s alive. Jolene clutched her hands together. Poor Bubba. What happened? Did he slip or something?

I got 911 on the phone. Charla pointed to the phone at her ear, swiping away tears with her free hand.

Tell them he’s suffered a head injury. The sheriff looked up. "Anybody got something I can