Found Key: Ginny Dove Cozy Mystery Series, #1

By Lea Charles

Ginny Dove, a military widow, runs the Paisley Apron Diner in the small town of Sweet Springs, Virginia, located amid the picturesque Blue Ridge Mountains. She's drawn into a homicide investigation when the young schoolteacher Ellie Blackburn is found slain on Pilgrims' Knob, which Ginny owns. Along with her patient mother Marge and her irrepressible Aunt Cricket, Ginny sets out to learn what happened to Ellie. Acting Sheriff Roosevelt Baker soon comes to depend on Ginny's sleuthing smarts and practical ideas to ferret out the right clues leading them to identify three murder suspects. When not operating the town diner and playing amateur sleuth, Ginny raises her rambunctious seven-year-old son Boone and begins her promising romance with Roosevelt. While searching to find the "key" to solve Ellie's murder mystery and return harmony to Sweet Springs, Ginny also discovers a few personal things about herself. Mystery fans of Nevada Barr as well as Jim and Joyce Laverne will enjoy the humor, setting, and compassion found in the Ginny Dove Cozy Mystery Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ed Lynskey
• Release date: Apr 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386974284

Book preview

Chapter 1

It’ll be a cold day in the hot spot below before I say whether or not I use a dye job. Olive Spriggs fluffed her natural straw-blonde hair in the smartphone’s mirror app. A smart cookie never divulges her beauty secrets.

Ginny Dove returned her best friend and business partner’s smile. The tall, slim Olive had a milestone birthday—the big 30—rolling up, and Ginny had just gotten through hers. She’d worn a black sleeve band in protest.

Your beauty secret is safe with me, Ginny said.

So, what do you think? Should I tinker with my hair color? How awesome would I look as a honey brunette? Or if I were a brassy redhead?

Slimmer still and one inch taller, Ginny arched her brunette eyebrows. Haven’t you heard the old saw blondes have more fun?

Then I can only hope I’m a late bloomer, Olive said, taking down the smartphone.

They could afford to chuckle on the slow Monday afternoon at the Paisley Apron Diner. Ginny’s mother Marge had opened it three decades ago. The town pundits had predicted Canaan, Virginia, nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains was too small to give the new eatery enough business to survive. Nevertheless, here in August 2011, it was still going as strong as ever on Main Street.

Olive and Ginny sat opposite each other at a booth, its seats covered with red Naugahyde. Their soda glasses were half-filled with crushed ice. They wore diamond wedding rings although Ginny was a military widow, one of several living in Canaan.

If I feel a burst of energy, I’ll clean the glass panes on the front door, Ginny said.

Even if you don’t feel a burst of energy, it’s not a crime or sin, Olive said. Nobody but you will notice the smudge marks.

Do I sound like Mom talking?

Marge is one of a kind. What’s she doing with Boone today?

They’re going on a mountain walk to dig up wood ferns to plant in his new terrarium. Ginny smiled. He’s constantly taking up new projects. Last week he built an ant colony, and the week before he adopted a pet box turtle. I wished he’d settle on one thing and stick with it awhile.

Give him a break, Ginny. He’s all of seven. Boys his age are filled with awe and curiosity about the world.

Ginny fidgeted with her wedding ring. I’m glad he doesn’t spend his every waking moment on the computer playing video games.

Marge will make sure her grandson gets his daily exercise out in the sunshine and fresh air.

I wish I could be home with him, but I’m grateful she can babysit him. They get along great. He inherited her sense of humor since he sure didn’t get it from me.

You are so funny in your dry-witted way.

Ginny’s smartphone piped up singing a Tim McGraw song, and she accepted the call.

Hi, Mom, Ginny said. How did your hike go?

I’ve got some news about it, Marge replied.

Did Boone collect his wood ferns? Ginny asked.

Not exactly, Marge replied. Are you sitting down?

I’m sitting in a booth with Olive, Ginny replied. Why?

I stumbled upon a dead human body, Marge replied.

Ginny cut her eyes to Olive. You found a dead human body, she said.

Are you Polly the Parrot? That’s what I just said, Marge said.

Olive’s eyes grew large as a pair of Mason jar lids. Who died? she whispered to Ginny.

Ginny did a shush wave with her free hand.

Did Boone also see it? Ginny asked. 

He most certainly did not, Marge replied. I walked up on it while he scouted for wood ferns just off the trail. He’s with me, and he’s fine.

At least that part is good news, Ginny said. How are you doing with it?

I felt a little jolt, but I’m calmer now, Marge replied.

Where are you? Ginny asked.

We made it up as far as Pilgrims’ Knob, Marge replied. Can you break away from the diner and come here?

Olive can hold things down, Ginny replied. Give me a few minutes and don’t go anywhere.

Marge laughed. You’re the second person to tell me that. Roosevelt said the same thing no more than five minutes ago from his patrol car.

Has he arrived there yet? Ginny asked.

He said he’ll be here in a jiff, Marge replied. My bringing up the murder lit a hot fire under him.

Murder? Ginny’s voice cracked. Is it a murder?

Olive’s eyes widened even more. Murder hits Canaan, she said.

I have to go, Marge said. Sheriff Baker just hustled into sight. His face is beet red, and I don’t remember my CPR.

Bye, Mom, Ginny said.

Who’s the murder victim? Olive asked.

She didn’t tell me, Ginny replied.

Call her back and ask her, Olive said.

Ginny shook her head. I have to hightail it up to Pilgrims’ Knob. Boone is with her and a corpse. Why couldn’t they stick to the game plan and look for the wood ferns?

Don’t stress and go be with your family, Olive said. I have the diner covered.

***

Sheriff Roosevelt Baker first spotted Ginny cresting Pilgrims’ Knob, a scenic overlook featuring gray boulders, mountain laurel, and scrub pines. He waved. She barely had the energy left after making the steep ascent to wave back.

Ginny looks too pooped to pop, Roosevelt said.

She looks no worse for the wear than you did, Marge said. She wore silver-rimmed glasses and denim jeans. Her quick, winning smile put folks at ease and made friends easily.

Deputy Sheriff Peewee Stubblefield snickered at his overweight boss.

I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Roosevelt told Peewee. You looked run through the wringer after we reached the top.

Peewee stopped snickering. Halfway up, I stopped and ate a candy bar for an energy boost, he said.

I hope you brought a pocketful of candy bars, Roosevelt said. You’ll need another energy boost while you’re lugging the dead body down to the hearse.

Lugging dead bodies isn’t in my job description, Peewee said.

It falls under the other duties as assigned, Roosevelt said.

Ginny hurried over, crouched down, and hugged Boone, a stocky towhead resembling his late father Herman.

Turn me loose, Mom, Boone said, squirming to break free of her clinch. You’re embarrassing me in front of the sheriff.

Mothers do that, Ginny said without relaxing her embrace. We hold our kids until our arms drop off and don’t you ever forget it.

When the mothers stop hugging, the grandmothers are waiting in line to take over, Marge said.

I need oxygen, Boone said.

Ginny let go of him, stood up, and faced Roosevelt and Peewee. Who is the murder victim? she asked.

Cool your jets, Ginny, Roosevelt said. I need to get some basic information from you.

Keep it short and sweet, Ginny said. I have to return to the diner.

Are you the legal owner of Pilgrims’ Knob? Roosevelt asked.

That’s right, Ginny replied.

I assume you give folks the permission to come on your property, Roosevelt said.

Ginny nodded. I feel it’s only right to let others climb up and enjoy the view from the overlook.

What a breathtaking view it is, too, Peewee said. I remember the moonlit night I brought Natalie Shannon up here with a chilled bottle of Chianti, a paper sack of grilled cheese sandwiches, and a throw blanket—.

As captivating as your tale is, Peewee, I’ll stick to discussing the murder, Roosevelt said.

Be my guest, Peewee said. I’ll fill you in later at the station house.

I’d rather watch paint dry, Roosevelt said.

Careful, Sheriff, Peewee said. Natalie is my dear wife now.

Remind her she has my deepest sympathy, Roosevelt said. 

Before Peewee got his feathers any further ruffled, Ginny spoke.

You haven’t told me who the murder victim is, she said.

The late Ellie Blackburn lies over yonder, Roosevelt said.

When Ginny looked at Marge for confirmation, she nodded. A wave of shock and horror swept through Ginny, causing her to shudder as she gritted her teeth.

What should we do next? Roosevelt asked.

"We? You got a chinchilla in your shirt pocket? Ginny replied. You wear the badge, so you should make the call."

Even so, the evil deed occurred on your land, Roosevelt said. You should bear some of the responsibility for getting to the bottom of Ellie’s murder.

Ginny planted her hands on her hips and struck a defiant pose with her chin raised.

Don’t be ridiculous, Roosevelt, she said. I run a diner and don’t know diddly squat about finding a murderer.

Mom is terrific at for finding keys and other stuff, Boone said. She can hunt down just about anything.

Hush now, Boone, Ginny said.

Boone makes a good point, Marge said. You have a knack for locating missing things around the house.

Then we can make the case Ginny is sort of a sleuth, Roosevelt said.

If there’s a clue, rest assured Ginny will reveal it, Marge said. If there’s a red herring, she’ll sniff it out. If there’s a solution, she’ll zero in on it.

Marge gives you a ringing endorsement, Roosevelt said, taking full measure of Ginny.

All mothers give their kids glowing accolades, Ginny said. You shouldn’t read anymore into what Mom tells you than that.

I’m willing to try new things if they show any promise to succeed, Roosevelt said.

"You should deputize Ginny as our department’s unofficial sleuth," Peewee said.

You must’ve read my mind, Roosevelt said.

Awesome, Boone said. Mom is now a lady cop. Does she get to pack heat? 

If she does, I have a bone to pick with you, Peewee said. "I’m the official deputy sheriff, and you don’t let me carry a handgun."

As long as I’m the town sheriff, you never will be armed, Roosevelt said.

What is that supposed to mean? Peewee asked.

My goal is to go home upright with a pulse when my shift ends, not accidentally plugged by my deputy sheriff, Roosevelt replied.

I’ve never been so insulted in my life, Peewee said. I may very well turn in my resignation over it.

Promises, promises, Roosevelt said.

That straw does it, Peewee said. I hereby quit.

Roosevelt chuckled. Your resignation is hereby rejected, he said.

How can you do that? Peewee asked. 

All right, let’s cool it, guys, Ginny said. A killer is on the loose. What if he or she strikes again?

Why ask me? Peewee replied. Roosevelt is the big-shot sheriff with all the answers.

Peewee, one of these days you’re going to step over the line too far, Roosevelt said. I don’t care if we are first cousins.

Don’t rub it in, Peewee said.

Ginny glanced at Marge who smiled.

Look, I don’t have the time to be a sleuth while I also manage the Paisley Apron Diner, Ginny said.

Roosevelt asked you for a personal favor, Marge said.

I gave him my honest answer, Ginny said. Olive can’t do everything by herself, especially during our peak times.

Boone and I can pitch in and lend Olive a hand, Marge said.

Since Marge settled your objection, are you willing to assist us or not? Roosevelt asked.

As I just said, I don’t know beans about murders or murderers, Ginny replied.

Join the club, Roosevelt said. We’ll make it up as we go.

Peewee nodded. Fake it till you make it is our motto, he said. Right, Sheriff?

Peewee, silence is golden should be your motto, Roosevelt replied. Go ahead and eat your other candy bars. You’ll need the extra energy soon, let me tell you.

See how efficiently you can move Ellie’s dead body off Pilgrims’ Knob and down to the hearse, Ginny said.

Would you like to view her remains before we do? Roosevelt asked.

Attending her funeral will be soon enough, Ginny replied. Come along, Boone. We’re going home now before they move Ellie.

Chapter 2

Ginny arrived at the Canaan Elementary School. She’d made a few calls and learned the late Ellie Blackburn had interviewed for a teacher’s job. With no better idea on how to get the ball rolling, Ginny left to see Principal Diane Brent who’d conducted the job interview.

The two-story brick elementary school hadn’t changed much since Ginny attended it. She’d enjoyed going to grade school where she befriended Olive Spriggs. Ginny came in the front entrance, fondly remembered the hallway’s fruity aroma, and discovered the principal’s office hadn’t moved. They exchanged smiles as they shook hands.

Please call me Diane, the principal said.

Ginny got comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs. Hello, Diane, Ginny said. It’s been awhile.

Diane sat down behind the wooden desk. We’re both adults. My hair now is a shade of gray, and my waistline has expanded.

And I’m the mother of an energetic seven-year-old. Boone will enter the second grade in a few weeks.

Who knows? The late Ellie Blackburn could’ve been Boone’s teacher.

Was she the only candidate you interviewed?

Before we proceed any further, let me ask you something.

Certainly, Diane.

Sheriff Baker phoned me and said you were coming. He did his best to explain what you’re doing but let me hear it in your own words.

Ginny shrugged. I’m not sure I can give you any better description. Somehow, he talked me into becoming a sleuth—Ginny inserted air quotes around the curious term—on Ellie’s murder case, and so here I sit talking to you.

Diane frowned. You’re a sleuth. Do you mean like Jessica Fletcher was on TV several decades ago?

Ginny nodded. Jessica was longer in the tooth than me and I think lived in Maine, she replied.

Have you had any previous experience as a sleuth?

I’m green as grass, but it doesn’t stop or deter me in the slightest.

So I can see. Are you getting paid?

I only wish I were. Who doesn’t need the money?

Then why are you volunteering to do it?

Ginny set her jaw and gave Diane a determined look. Because I told Roosevelt I’d assist him in anyway I can. Somebody killed Ellie up on Pilgrims’ Knob, which is my land, and I take a dim view of it.

You’re as stubborn now as you were in elementary school.

Ginny smiled. Guilty as charged. Let’s get started, shall we? I asked if you interviewed anybody else.

I had one other candidate under consideration.

May I ask who it was?

I interviewed Cheryl Rigby whom you probably know. She and Ellie were the only two qualified candidates I culled from the pool of applicants I received.

Which one had the inside track after you interviewed them?

I hadn’t made up my mind about which one I preferred.

Did you tell Cheryl who her competition was?

We live in a small town with a robust grapevine. I said nothing, but I’m sure they each knew. Have you many other questions on your list?

As you can see, I didn’t bring a list of questions.