Danger Before Dahlias: Madis Harrah Mysteries, #5

By Aubrey Elle

Payton's battle of the bands should mark the end-of-summer celebration and the engagement of her best friends, but finding a dead body in the town square ruins those plans. Madis has the misfortune of finding the councilman's dead body beside her landscaping truck, but she's much more unsettled by the fact someone used her shovel to murder him.

Randy Gowen leaves a life with more twists and surprises than anyone can expect, but it's anyone's guess who could have clocked him in the head with a gardening tool. Ex-wives unhappy about how he spent his money? Rivals competing in the local election? Angry business owners who disliked his decisions on the council?

After the only witness to the crime faces similar danger—and death—Madis worries that time is running out to find the killer, especially when a grand gesture of a proposal can't be delayed again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aubrey Elle
• Release date: Aug 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223671947

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Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 Aubrey Elle

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

For Trinity

Chapter One

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I slapped my thigh, halting my way to Mom’s car.

"Oh, Madis. Come on, already," she called from the passenger seat of her car.

I forgot my phone! I hollered as I turned back for the house.

I swear. That girl’s thirty-seven going on fifteen. Never on time...

Take that back! I retorted as I unlocked the front door. As a teen, yeah, I was unpunctual. Now, as an adult, I had to at least pretend to be mature. I was always on time—mostly—for quotes and consultations for my landscaping jobs. I still took pride in the comments online that praised how my crew finished projects before deadlines.

Today’s delay was absolutely not my fault.

Fricking Randy. I sighed, snatching my phone from the counter and then dashing back outside. On this fine muggy day of sweltering August sunshine, I’d had to move my landscapers around to make do for a job that I’d tried to have done ahead of time. My motivation to get jobs done as quickly as possible—while maintaining quality, of course—was nothing more than an expression of my overambition. Kind of like my challenge with GPS. If it said I’d reach a destination in twenty minutes, it was game on to beat that estimation.

Checking on the newly installed garden beds around the town square park space and mulching the areas with dahlias that a Girl Scout troop had planted for a stewardship project in the spring shouldn’t have taken long. Randy Gowen, Payton’s longest-reigning council member, had hired me for upkeep of the town square space in late July. So it was a relatively new assignment. But he’d postponed when I could come because there were other commitments happening and he didn’t want gardeners in the way. Like we were elephants spraying water and mud around.

"It’s his fault we had to do this last minute," I muttered to myself as I reached for the passenger door.

What are you griping about? Mom asked as I got in and buckled. She drove from the house we shared straightaway.

How stupid it was that we had to rush at the last minute for tidying up the gardens around the square’s stage.

She harumphed. I’ll say. The battle of the bands is starting in fifteen minutes.

And all day, we’d been at it. Jon and Toby mowing, string trimming, then blowing the lawn that had grown like crazy since last week. So much for that usual dry spell of summer where everything burned out. Not this year. Hurricanes and tropical storms down south pushed consistent precipitation up here to Ohio. I was so ready for fall.

Selena and Beth were bringing in pots of mini dahlias to decorate the stage. Kent and I were digging out dead or diseased black-eyed Susans and phlox and replacing them with new ones. I’d had to prune the lilacs around the main walkways toward the square because I was that much of a nitpicker that it drove me nuts to see such neglected and lopsided bushes.

First, we couldn’t do the work because someone was getting married. And needed a whole week to decorate.

Mom hummed in agreement. "Although, Missy and Tim’s wedding was nicely done."

Uh-huh. Then that tea party.

She grinned. Well, now that Rosie doesn’t host them anymore, they had to find a new spot to have them.

Right. I relaxed in the seat, sighing and grateful Mom had been nearby the town square to run me home for a shower. I’d left my Madis Landscaping truck where it was, parked behind the town square stage, because there was no way I could have moved it. When Mom and I rushed home so I could clean up, it was packed. Citizens of Payton crowding to sample the food trucks, musicians parking and unloading their gear. Randy and an assistant had been darting around, checking the electrical for the stage was in working order. It was nuts, and I bet Mom would have to park clear down Main Street when we returned.

But then there was that sewer issue. Flooded half the lawns and walkways.

And the construction at that light. All those trucks and equipment sat on the square for a good week, Mom added.

So, yeah. The town square had been busy since July, but Randy had been asking for a miracle for my crew to tidy up the area before tonight’s festivities.

Well, Mom said and leaned over to pat my thigh, you pulled it off.

Thanks to Kent. I huffed. "He does not like this at-the-last-minute pressure." My right-hand man and business partner got downright firm, like a drill sergeant but polite about it.

Mom giggled. Of course not. I imagine he’s been stressed all day anyway.

Grinning, I turned off my frustration about the hastiness of the day. I’d blame my mood on the heat instead. My gosh, the first day it was below eighty-five would feel like heaven.

Is he nervous? Mom asked.

About proposing to Rachel tonight? I nodded. Of course.

Silly man. Like she’d turn him down.

I know, right? But that’s just his nature. And it shows how big this is for him, how much she matters to him. He was nervous, but Toby and Jon could rile a smile out of him. Tommy stopped by and got him to lighten up, too.

Kent knew he had all of us to count on for support. We were all excited to see him pop the question to Rachel, my best friend and MH Landscaping’s bookkeeper.

All the more reason for us to hurry and get a good spot near the stage. Mom frowned at the limited parking along Main. Rosie and I promised him we’d capture it all. Photos and video.

I asked Elliot and Sasha to take pictures too. Because we all knew how sentimental Rachel would get about it. She’d make a scrapbook of every event and milestone in life, so much so to the point I figured the baby she and Kent were having would gain volumes of photos, videos, and mementos through life.

It wasn’t hoarding...per se, but she documented everything.

Maybe that’s just another facet of her bookkeeping, detail-oriented personality.

Well, we’re back, anyway.

Mom huffed a hard enough breath it lifted her graying red bangs off her forehead. Sure, we only have to hike a mile to get close to the stage again.

Out the window, I saw a golf cart cruising down the sidewalk. An odd sight for our small town, but the police department decal on the plastic bumper area made sense.

Hey, Nick! I waved my arm and Payton’s chief smiled at me, stopping the cart.

Madis, hey, you made it.

Mom harumphed again.

What, you would have rather me stay stinky and muddy all night? I sassed.

Oh, hush and help me find a spot.

Nick must have figured we were on the hunt as he stayed parked in the cart, scanning the road. Tommy, Payton’s retired chief, stood from the passenger seat of the cart. He pointed. At the bank, Patty. The spot by the clock.

Oh, hey, Mom murmured. Good eye, Tommy! she called out to him.

After we’d parked, the men reversed the cart closest to us.

Got room on that chariot for two ladies? I asked.

As long as you hustle, Nick teased.

Tommy vacated his seat so I could sit next to my kind-of boyfriend. I’d admit Nick and I were dating, but neither of us seemed too eager to go nuts labeling our relationship. It was exclusive, we were both equally busy with our jobs, and we were both happy. That was all that mattered.

Rounding to the back seat that faced rearward, Tommy sat on the vinyl cushion and patted the spot next to him. Hop on, Patty.

What are you guys doing so far from the stage? she asked.

Even from this distance, the mob of people was visible from the stage in the center of the town square. I sat, pecking a kiss hello to Nick’s cheek, and he stepped on the gas.

I forgot my pick, Nick admitted. He shook his head. What a rookie mistake.

For someone who’s been playing for years, yeah, I teased.

Instead of his uniform, he sported jeans and a black t-shirt. Nick and Jon were going third in the line of musicians offering entertainment tonight, the song Kent would have playing in the background to propose to Rachel.

No worries, we’ll make good time, Tommy said, checking his watch. I heard Chrissy Holmes saying there seemed to be some kind of utility issue with the stage’s amps.

Wouldn’t they have checked that out ahead of time? I asked. All day long, volunteers had been out and about. Some stringing decorations, others guiding food trucks for parking and setting up. A couple of official looking volunteers—local busybody Chrissy and another older man who I thought was the new high school music teacher—had been on the stage intermittently all day, clipboards in hand and frowning in concentration. Who knew prepping for a small-town battle of the bands was such a production.

Randy was there all day, I added. Mostly on his phone, but available nonetheless.

Mom snorted. Yeah, like Randy and Chrissy could have gotten along long enough for them to work together on anything there.

Why? Randy was a demanding, impatient sort of guy, but Chrissy seemed amenable. Opinionated to the nth degree, but mild-mannered.

Nick grunted a laugh. "You mean you haven’t heard her all but insisting she should have his spot on the town’s council?"

I dismissed him with a wave. Oh, that council was nothing but political drama. Something I hardly cared to follow or worry about.

We pulled up toward the outer edge of the town square space. Conversations filled the air, merging with the blanket of humidity, but in the distance, instruments cut through the din as the musicians readied for their performances.

Damon strolled up toward us as Nick parked.

Thanks, Nick said, tossing the cart’s key to his officer on duty.

Anytime. He checked his watch and raised his brows. "You’ve got time to get back there. Seems like there’s an issue backstage and people are starting to ask me, like I’d know what’s going on. He raised his brows. Chrissy’s been telling me the show will start