The Turkey Burger Murder: A Sleepy Creek Cozy Mystery, #4

By Rosie A. Point

What do burgers, a detective, and a vegan have in common? Murder...

 

Christie Watson, private investigator, has never been this busy. Pets keep going missing, the local police have asked her to find out who's behind a series of… meat thefts, and her cousin, in what appears to be a fit of heat-induced insanity, has decided to open a competing private investigation firm. 

 

Christie figures life can't get any more complicated, and she's fine with that. 

 

Until a local vegan activist is murdered right in front of her best friend's Burger Bar. And there's only one suspect.

 

Christie's ex-detective boyfriend who hasn't got an alibi. 

 

With the pressure mounting, Christie has to get to work and prove that her boyfriend didn't do it even as the police tell her it's time to stay out of it. 

See if you can figure out whodunit before Christie does in the fourth installment of the Sleepy Creek Cozy Mystery series! Grab your copy today. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rosie A. Point
• Release date: Mar 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798201089122

Book preview

1

A nd it was at that point you realized that the suspect had run off with the meat? I tilted my head, studying the victim of this senseless crime. Senseless because what kind of psycho stole a meat delivery at gunpoint?

Yes, ma’am, the victim, a college-aged kid named Ricky, ruffled his messy hair. I had no idea, like, what to do. So I just kind of sat there for a while in the van. I didn’t want to get in trouble with Mr. Preston. They took everything. The rib-eye, the t-bones, the ground beef. Everything.

Huh. I scribbled the information down on my notepad, perched on the edge of the desk.

Private investigation work had been picking up lately, but only because I took jobs like this. As a consultant to the Sleepy Creek Police Department, I got asked to help out with the ridiculous jobs that the detective in town, Arthur Cotton, needed extra hands, eyes, and ears for.

That included meat theft.

I tapped the side of the pen against the notepad, thinking hard. A difficult feat in the incredibly hot office in Preston’s Butchery.

What was interesting about this particular incident of meat theft was that it wasn’t isolated. I’d received a few reports of meat theft over the past couple of weeks, in between the usual requests for help finding lost jewelry or cats stuck in trees.

This is what you’ve become. From homicide detective to meat investigator.

Nobody could accuse me of living a life without intrigue.

I frowned at Ricky. And you said that the suspect was wearing a balaclava?

Yeah.

And smelled of…? I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

Cat pee.

Cat pee. Right. Right. I underlined the words Cat urine??? on my notepad.

It appeared we had a cat-loving, meat burglar on the loose. In a town like Sleepy Creek, that didn’t narrow down my list of suspects by much. Everybody and their cousin had a cat, and this happened to be the home of the best burgers in the state of Ohio thanks to my best friend’s burger bar.

The ceiling fan beat out a steady rhythm overhead, pushing around the hot air in the office. Several beads of sweat trailed down Ricky’s cheeks. He wiped them off on the sleeves of his striped shirt, which bore the logo for Preston’s Butchery, and a jaunty saying which read "Great to MEAT you!"

And when you—

I was interrupted by the office door opening.

The brim of a white Stetson appeared and my assistant and cousin, Aggy Dupin, appeared, blinking behind a pair of tortoiseshell glasses. Sorry I’m late, she said, scuttling inside. I had to make a stop at the Burger Bar for a late lunch. She wore a flowery summer dress and had managed to mess ketchup on the front that she’d smeared with a napkin.

You ate without me? I asked.

That was unlike her. Aggy had been through a lot since she’d first arrived in Sleepy Creek, from being told she had to go into a career in law enforcement—which she was not suited for in the slightest—to being accused of murder, to being ostracized for helping me. She usually hung out with me, and she slept on the futon in the living room of my tiny apartment.

Needless to say, we did pretty much everything together, much to my eternal chagrin.

Aggy didn’t answer my question. She strode up to the desk and sat down on it, right beside me, her hip bumping into mine.

What are you—?

Aggy brought out a tiny pink notepad and a pen that ended in a fluffy purple feather. Mr. Ricky, I exhume, she said.

Did she mean presume?

It’s just Ricky, the witness said, smoothing his fingers over his forehead. Who are you?

My name is Agatha Dupin, and I’m here to private investigate you, she said, a bead of sweat forming at her temple, just beneath the too-big hat.

Aggy, I said. What the heck are you doing? I’d softened toward my long-lost cousin over the past while, but not enough to allow her to take the lead on an investigation. She usually hovered in the background, making inane comments and observations. She was here to learn to be an investigator not play at being one.

Mr. Ricky, Agatha said, ignoring me.

Just Ricky.

Mr. Just Ricky, she said, May I call you Just?

Just what?

Just Ricky. But is Just OK?

Is what just OK? The witness looked at her and then at me. What’s going on?

Nothing to worry about, Just, Aggy said. I’m only here to ask you a few questions.

Aggy, stop it, I grunted, snatching the fluffy-ended pen from her hand. You’re upsetting the witness.

Please, Miss Watson, I’m going to need you to back off. This is my case now, Aggy said, her eyes narrowing. Her chin trembled as if she couldn’t believe her own nerve at saying that to me.

What did you say? My tone dropped dangerously low.

T-This is my c-case now, Aggy said, then fumbled around in her beaded purse and brought out a card. She foisted it on me.

It was my card. Watson Investigations. Except, she had crossed out the Watson and scribbled on the name Dupin. She’d kept the address and the phone number the same.

It’s time I go my own way, Aggy said. And this case is my big break.

Are you—? Has the heat melted what’s left of your good sense? I could barely believe this. It had to be a prank. Did Missi and Vee put you up to this? You know I’ve been having blood pressure issues lately, Aggy, and this isn’t helping. The doctor said I had remarkably high blood pressure for a woman as active and as young as I was. My blood pressure had been just peachy before Aggy had arrived in Sleepy Creek. And here was the reason.

She was always up to something hare-brained. The epitome of all hat and no cattle especially wearing that stetson.

Nobody put me up to this, Aggy said. I’m here of my own cord.

It’s accord, you— I cut off, turning toward the witness. I’m sorry about this, Ricky. Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch if I need more information from you.

No problem, he said. Just catch the guy, all right? Mr. Preston was real angry with me for losing that delivery. There’s a new steakhouse opening soon and they needed that meat. He got up and shuffled out of the office.

The minute the door closed, I turned on my cousin. What’s gotten into you? Have you lost it completely?

I’m doing what my father wanted me to do, Christie, Aggy said, licking her gloss-covered lips. The sooner I open my own business, the sooner I’ll get my inheritance.

Aggy had no idea that her father had wanted her to hide out rather than get a job in law enforcement. His last wish had been for her to learn from me, even though she wanted to open her own bakery, but that was a ruse. Aggy’s father had been murdered, and her being here was his attempt at protecting her posthumously.

I gritted my teeth, trying to bear that in mind. I bopped the rim of her hat with the end of the feathery pencil. You better stay out of my way, Aggy, or you’ll regret it.

2

My temper wasn’t the best, and I was aware of that and working on it, but it was difficult to have a long fuse when life was so full of stress.

I stood in the kitchen in my tiny apartment, one hand leaning on the counter, the other stroking Poirot, my cat, who peered up at me with concern.

I’m fine, I said. Just annoyed.

The day had passed without incident after the Aggy run-in, but tonight