Tickle His Funny Bone: Naomi & Winston Mysteries, #6

By Maddie Sutton

Naomi's ability to talk to animals take a back seat when she discovers the body of the local Clown Association's president is found face down in his kibble.

The lead clown featured in the local Founder's Day parade is found murdered near a dumpster and no witnesses as to how he got there. When the owner of her favorite restaurant who is accused of his murder, Naomi's hackles rise. With the mayoral race looming on the horizon and sketchy behavior parade participants, Naomi tries to uncover who would murder a clown before her favorite barbecue place is shut down and she's left with no way to fill that sweet pulled pork void.

Can she untangle the knot of decades of political machinations, old grudges, and sketchy behavior before the volatile mix claims another life?

The sixth book in the southern, small town Naomi & Winston Mysteries, Tickle His Funny Bone contains no adult situations or gore, only fun and high jinks as the heroine solves mysteries and chases behind her perpetually confused, endearingly curious, and continuously chatty Chihuahua. This story has a light paranormal element.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maddie Sutton
• Release date: Dec 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201575656

Book preview

1

I stared out of the front window as Sarah went to retrieve Mrs. Manbooth’s Yorkie. I suppose this means you won’t be open during the parade? she asked as she wrote out her check for Sherlock’s grooming.

Sadly, yes, I said. Already, city employees were setting out the crowd barriers. To be honest, when I bought the building, I hadn’t realized that my business/ home was on the parade route.

At least I’m guaranteed a perfect spot to watch the parade go by. The master bedroom has French doors which open onto a small balcony — the best seat on the route!

Thankfully, Saturday’s only a half day for me so I’m not losing that much revenue.

Sarah returned, announcing, Here she is. Sherlock shook in her arms, her tail thumping in excitement when she saw her owner.

Oh, Naomi, you really outdid yourself this time. I was afraid you’d have to cut all the burrs out of her hair. Mrs. Manbooth slid the check over and pulled out a twenty to go with it. I can imagine it was tedious.

I grinned. It’s a secret technique.

Sarah snorted. It’s called getting her sister to comb them out.

I’m an efficient business owner.

You ladies did a fantastic job. Thank you so much.

I walked with Mrs. Manbooth to the door and opened it for her. See you next month, Sherlock.

Sherlock climbed Mrs. Manbooth’s chest to look over her shoulder. Indubitably, she said to me.

Once she was gone, I turned to see Sarah giving me a funny look. What?

It’s uncanny how the dogs understand you. It’s almost as if they really are talking to you.

Yeah. I hadn’t told any of my family about my unusual ability to understand and speak to animals. Certainly not telling customers.

Telling them wasn’t something I planned on doing either. A freak lightning strike (although it wasn’t such a freak accident since I was fool enough to stand under a tree with a metal umbrella in a horrible thunderstorm) endowed me with this gift.

I’m sure they’d think I had completely gone around the bend, so it stayed my little secret.

It also stayed Jolene’s secret. That was a miracle considering she was as big a gossip as my grandma. She was also my best friend. So, my secret stayed safe with her.

I took the check to put in the cash drawer and slid the twenty to Sarah. That’s yours since you were the one who got Sherlock straightened out.

Sweet! She held it up in triumph before sliding it into her back pocket. That’s my pizza night!

Who’s left?

Monty. Serena called to say that she’s on her way to pick him up.

Can I have you handle that while I let Daisy and Winston out? They haven’t been out to pee since lunch.

Sarah gave me a wave and grabbed the cleaner and a cloth.

I looked up the stairs to see Winston and Daisy. They were waiting patiently behind the baby gate that kept them out of the shop.

Winston’s tail wagged and he picked up Friend, his much-loved rag doll in anticipation. The doll was almost as big as he was. Daisy lifted her head from her lazy sprawl, then got to her feet. Her pit bull body dwarfed them both. You guys ready to go outside for a bit?

I opened the gate and they both bounded down the stairs, skidded around the corner to bum’s rush the back door. Winston managed to wiggle through his doggy door, although Friend made it a tight squeeze since he wouldn’t surrender his doll for anything. Daisy rolled her eyes up at me and sat patiently.

You could get a bigger door, she said.

I have an appointment with my dad to come install one. Cool your jets.

Who are you talking to? Sarah shouted from the front of the shop.

Daisy. She’s giving me a disapproving look about the dog door status.

You really need to get a bigger door.

I know!

Daisy waited patiently for me to open the door wide before she trotted out into the yard. Both of you stay close. I don’t want to have to chase you around the neighborhood again.

The weather had just a nip in the air as the trees started their color change, shedding leaves all over my backyard. The thought of having to rake all that made me tired.

Mental note: Call Clare and see if her fiancé is out of jail yet. He used to run a landscaping business. Why do something so tedious when I could hire someone else?

I left the backdoor open for Daisy and Winston to chase around in the leaves and went up front to gather the money for the deposit.

You really lucked out with Daisy, my sister said. She’s an amazing dog.

I really did. She’s been such a good companion for Winston. He’s feeling less lonely.

Robbie and I are talking about getting a cat. At the mention of her fiancé’s name, her phone chimed. He has this uncanny ability to know when I’m talking about him.

She thumbed in a response to his text and resumed cleaning.

Have you two set a date?

Sarah shook her head. Right now we’re waiting to hear from some of his family in Minnesota. He has an uncle he’s very close to who he wants to be at the ceremony. But he’s some big muckety-muck with Doctors Without Borders. He’s out of the country right now.

Oh wow. That’s community service on a global scale.

Yeah, Robbie’s very proud of him.

I hope he’ll get to come to the wedding, then.

Outside, a flash of the sun reflecting off a car caught our attention. It was Robbie. She put the cleaning fluid and cloth in the kitchen. If that’s it, can I cut out? Robbie and I are heading to a friend’s house to marathon something on Netflix.

Wait, was Robbie texting and driving?

Sarah glanced out the window. Probably.

Sarah…

I know. He knows. He was just down the street! She hopped from foot to foot impatiently.

I sighed. Go ahead. I can wait for Monty’s owner. Did you tell Mom you wouldn’t be there for dinner?

Shoot. Sarah pulled her phone on her way to the door. No hours tomorrow?

Nope. Founder’s Day Parade, remember? Have fun.

She waved and headed outside to Robbie’s waiting car. He got out, circled around to open the door for her and kissed her before letting her climb in. It warmed my heart that my sister was able to find love.

He’s nice. Daisy’s voice startled me.

I didn’t hear you come in. And you just like him because he shares his biscuits with you under the table.

Counting cash and making up the deposit went more smoothly if I did it while it was on my mind. My bookkeeper fussed at me regularly to stay current with my numbers so I wasn’t rushing around at the end of the quarter trying to pull it all together for her. I was trying to be diligent.

It wasn’t very fun though.

Eating deep fried onion was fun. Playing blanket monster with Winston was fun. Indulging my addiction to barbecue sauce was fun.

Bookkeeping? Not so much fun.

Dad’s light tapping on the side door saved me. He ducked his head in. Hey sweetheart, you busy?

Wishing I wasn’t, I said, sweeping a hand over the scattered documents on the table. Want some coffee?

He stepped in the kitchen and was immediately greeted by Winston and Daisy. After a proper hello, he sat down at the table with me. No, I was actually coming by to tell you it’ll be a day or two before I can install that door for Daisy.

No rush.

Daisy sighed heavily.

What are you up to? I asked.

I have to run by Walter’s to fix my chainsaw.

Wow, something you can’t repair. I never thought I’d hear you say that.

Dad laughed softly. I’m not a miracle worker. This is beyond me. I suspect I know what he’s going to say.

Get a new one?

He tapped his nose and grinned.

He may have a point. You’ve had the same one for twenty years.

It’s been a good one. But I’m not giving up until I have an expert look at it. He patted on my arm. I was wondering if you want to ride with me. Your mom has asked me to drop by Happy Harts for dinner tonight.

My mouth dropped open. Mom…actually ordering out? This is a day full of firsts for me.

She and Louisa are on the last push to get everything ready for the parade tomorrow. Phoebe said the church float is taking longer to finish than they planned.

Gramma has been preparing for this parade all year. She won’t abandon the task now. She had lists. Lots of lists. She won’t be done until everything’s crossed off. So, it’ll just be me and you and Uncle Solly and Priscilla?

Maybe not even that many. They have election business they’re doing.

It was a shame that everyone was busy. Family dinners were a regular for me and I looked forward to them. However, the idea of spending the night with my dad was appealing. I’m all in, I said. Let me put this in the safe—

That’s hardly a safe, Naomi. Dad followed me to the locking cabinet I used to store my money. You really need a proper one.

I’ll get one. Eventually. Maybe.

And I’ll worry until you do. Dad went to the door and opened it. Everyone load up. Car ride.

Winston spun in circles. Yay! Car ride with Mary!

While Winston twirled around, Daisy picked up Friend and carted him to Dad’s truck.

I scooped up Winston, grabbed my purse and locked the door behind me.

A date with my dad.

This was going to be a good night.

Dad drove up a small dirt drive off the main highway south of town. A small wooden sign hung from the great oak tree in the front yard.

Walt’s Small Engine Repair

No engine too small

He pulled to a stop next to several go-carts lined up along one side of the paved portion of the driveway. I haven’t seen one of those in forever, I said as I climbed out of the truck.

Daisy and Winston jumped out behind me. Friend flopped on the ground as Winston immediately abandoned his doll in favor of sniffing around. I put Friend back in the truck.

Three dogs came around from behind a small workshop. No shows of aggression, just friendly, tails up, sniff-fest as they investigated their fellow canine visitors. Since no one’s hackles were up and Winston didn’t appear to be in any danger, I let them be. I did, however, keep a close eye on them.

Daisy, keep an eye on Winston. Everyone play nice, I said.

Winston didn’t show any signs of fear. They like me, Mary.

Dad looked at me strangely.

I grinned. It never hurts.

A large man came out of the workshop, wiping his hands before he stuck one out. Galen, how the hell are you?

Dad shook his hand. I’m good, Walt. Yourself? Looks like you’re gearing up for tomorrow as well.

Yeah, just making sure the brothers are all set to go.

Good. The Kiwanis’ go-carts are a favorite with the kids every year. Walt, you remember my daughter, Naomi?

When she was a wee little thing, Walt said, shaking my hand. It was huge, swallowing my hand almost completely. I’m sure she doesn’t remember me, though.

Sorry, I said sheepishly.

Not to worry. Care to take a cart for a spin?

I held my hands up. No. Thank you. I’d hate to damage one. They look brand-new.

Walt’s chest puffed out with pride. They’re ten years old. We had to replace them after that snake, Bartie Williams, sabotaged them. I’ve been taking care of them since. He waved to the shed on the edge of his property. They stay locked up until ready for use these days. What brings you by, Galen?

Chainsaw. It’s seized up again. Dad waved Walt to the bed of his truck. He let the tailgate down and dragged it over for Walt to get a look at it.

Walt gave a low whistle. Galen, you’ve had that thing forever. Have you considered getting a new one?

I giggled and Dad shot me an ‘I know’ look.

While they talked, I wanted a closer look at the go-carts. They were painted — fresh it looked like — in the red, yellow and orange colors of the local Kiwanis club chapter.

If they were ten years old, Walt took very good care of them. New knobby tires, fresh paint, and gleaming chrome. Even the long flags sticking up from each one looked new. A closer look at the engines was the only clue to them being older than they appeared.

Now I wished I had accepted Walt’s offer to take one for a spin.

From deep within the shop, Walt’s phone rang. I heard it but judging from the way Walt and Dad were in conversation, I suspected he didn’t.

Or maybe he was ignoring it.

A ringing business phone bugged me. Unless I was elbow deep in a shampoo I couldn’t pause, I always answered mine. Um, Mr. Walt? Your phone’s ringing.

Could you grab it for me, Naomi? Just answer Walt’s Small Engine. I’ll be right there.

Normally, that was something that would get my back up. I’m not someone’s secretary. But Walt was talking with Dad and it looked important judging by the look on his face.

Well, this one time I could play receptionist. It took a few tries to find the handset, buried beneath a rag and a newspaper. Walt’s Small Engine, I said with my best receptionist voice.

Where’s that slimy turd? an angry male voice demanded.

I’m sorry?

Walter, where is that sonofabitch? Get him on the phone right now.

Oh~kay. Whatever Walt had done to this guy? That was between them. But don’t talk to someone you don’t know like that. I’m sorry, sir, but Walt’s busy and can’t break away—

That sorry bastard ain’t known a busy day in his useless life. Who is this? Is this Pauline?

No… I said, taking a deep breath.

There was a long pause. Oh. Well. You tell that undercutting, scum-sucking piece of— The man cut himself off before he finished another name-calling tirade. Tell him Bartie called and if he thinks that he’s going to get me bumped further down the parade route, he’s got another thing coming.

Think.

What?

"It’s think. You’ve got another think coming."