Cornered at the Corral

By Jamie L. Adams

From author Jamie L. Adams comes a cozy mystery with a western twist!

Lily Cranston is basking in the fruits of her labor and enjoying the idyllic life of Grady, California. As the hard-working manager of the Calico Rock Mine and Ghost Town attraction, she's found success, and she's even rekindled a romance with her high school crush. However, when a scuffle disrupts the tranquility of the annual town festival, little does she realize that another tragedy looms.

A body is found in the river, and Lily is unexpectedly drawn into a web of secrets. An invitation to tea from the town historian and family friend, Irene Fletcher, presents a secret mission: protect the matriarch's grandson from being blamed for a crime he did not commit. Lily must navigate the conflicts of a century-old family feud, but when she stumbles on a secret meant to stay buried, the real killer has no choice but to try to silence her for good.

"The Ghost Town Mystery book series is going to be a favorite of mine!"
~ Cozy Mystery Book Reviews

" Murder at the Mine Earns 5/5 Calico Bonnets ... Clever Cozy Fun!"
~ Kings River Life Magazine

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
• Release date: May 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798201499143

Jamie L. Adams

Jamie L. Adams fell in love with books at an early age. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott opened her imagination and sparked a dream to be a writer. She wrote her first book as a school project in 6th grade. Living in the Ozarks with her husband, twin daughters, and a herd of cats, she spends most of her free writing, reading, or learning more about the craft near to her heart.

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CORNERED AT THE CORRAL

a Ghost Town Mystery

by

JAMIE L. ADAMS

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Copyright © 2024 by Jamie L. Adams

Published by Gemma Halliday Publishing

http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

Cover design by Daniela Colleo

of http://www.StunningBookCovers.com

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

I’d like to dedicate this book to my parents, Ray and Doris. Both have passed on to a better place, but the love they showed me still lives on today. Both were young children during the great depression and knew what it meant to survive hardships. They were two of the hardest-working people I ever knew, and I value the principles they instilled in me. Thank you Mom and Dad for believing in me and giving me the desire to dream big.

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CHAPTER ONE

A stab in the dark.

On Saturday afternoon, the annual Homesteader's Day celebration was in full swing when the trouble started. Under the shade of the red cedar pavilion, I sat with a group of friends listening to Irene Fletcher, our town's historian. She'd finished retelling a funny story when a woman's scream interrupted the laughter.

Stop! You're going to hurt him.

From the sound of it, a fight had broken out by the riverbank across from the old horse corral. So much for taking a few moments to relax. Although the city park wasn't technically on the Calico Rock Mine and Ghost Town's property, it did border The Park. In the spring we held a celebration to commemorate the founding of our town and celebrate the man who started it all—Thomas Grady.

Someone, please make them stop.

My brother-in-law Jack, who also served as the county sheriff, rose from his seat and marched his long six-foot-plus frame down to where the ruckus was taking place. Curious by nature, my sisters and I, along with a few other spectators, followed our fearless leader.

A small crowd of teens and older college-age youths had gathered around a pair of muscular ruffians bent on beating the other to a pulp. Grim expressions marred the sweat-streaked faces of Chase Fletcher and Jeremy Byrde. Second or third cousins, they had similar physiques. Both were broad in the shoulders with short necks, similar to some famous boxers I'd seen in old black and white movies. Despite their distant relationship, they belonged to opposing sides of a family feud that had been going on for generations.

Hey, now! Enough fighting. The sheriff's firm tone should have been enough to stop the two men throwing punches at each other. An off-duty deputy had to grab the younger man, Chase, while Jack stepped in front of Jeremy.

I edged my way to the front of the circle. As the manager of the Calico Rock Mine and Ghost Town situated a stone's throw away from the party, the committee would expect a write-up from me. For legal purposes, we put everything in writing.

He started it! Chase blew out a breath of air, sending a stray strand of hair from his face. Under the constraints of Deputy Jeff Orndoff, he seemed to relax.

You need to mind your own business, kid, bellowed Jeremy as Jack blocked the man's attempt to lunge toward his younger cousin.

Both of you go home before I have one of my men run you in for disorderly conduct. Jack wasn't kidding, either. When it came to the law, he didn't bend the rules.

All right, Jeremy said. Older by at least nine years, he had the same auburn hair as his cousin. Seeming to have calmed down, he raised his beefy hands and backed up. Muscular and built like a brick wall, he must have had a lifetime membership at the gym. All right, I'm leaving. The whole day's been a drag, anyway.

Helen Byrde caught my attention when she slipped away from the sidelines and hurried over to a group of lawn chairs near the river. There she grabbed a worn beach bag, glanced over her shoulder, and then stuffed two beach blankets and a suspicious bottle of clear liquid inside the tote. Jeremy's wife was petite, with thick, dishwater blonde hair she'd worn in a messy bun. I didn't know her personally, but our paths often crossed in town. She always looked unhappy and hurried.

You too, Chase, Jack said. The firm expression etched on my brother-in-law's face meant business.

Yes, sir. The younger boy nodded while still huffing to either catch his breath or show his hostility. A young redheaded woman wearing a short, bright-yellow summer dress joined him. She placed her hand on his arm and spoke loud enough for me to make out the end of what she had to say to him. I appreciate your sticking up for me.

Okay, everyone. The show's over. Jack waved his arms and added, Let's get a move on.

He went back to the gazebo where we had been hanging out with friends and sharing stories. By the time I'd returned to my spot beside Mrs. Fletcher, she was speaking with a man who stood with his back to me.

Don't worry, I'll see it's taken care of. His deep voice had a dull quality to it, almost monotone. He left without telling her goodbye, so I assumed he was one of her employees. A highly respected member of the community, the tall, slender, gray-haired woman came from one of Grady's founding families. Widowed, Irene Fletcher lived in a two-story mansion on top of a ridge with several domestic helpers to care for her and the gigantic house.

Mrs. Fletcher shifted her body until we were face to face. The silk blouse she wore matched her sky-blue eyes. The dynamic woman's smile glowed, despite the concern in her voice. Is everything all right down there?

Yes. I assured her. Jack took care of the situation before anyone got hurt.

Where's that handsome gentleman I saw you with earlier? Mrs. Fletcher asked. She meant my CSI boyfriend, Cody West.

Tall and muscular, Cody was handsome. He wore his dark hair in a crew cut, leaving the top a little longer. His brown eyes had a unique magnetic quality that drew me to him. Like a window to his soul, they reflected a wide range of emotions, from happiness to sadness. We had kept ourselves busy earlier in the day with activities such as making ice cream, a pie-eating contest, and a three-legged race before he had to leave for work.

He had to go to the office, I said as my gaze traveled to the parking lot where I'd last seen him. But Cody promised to return before dark to help with the cleanup.

Good. Mrs. Fletcher clasped her hands together and promptly changed the subject. I've heard so much about your involvement in the community since your return home.

After ten years working in the Ozarks, I'd returned to Grady, the town where my sisters and I had been raised. More than likely, Mrs. Fletcher had read about me, rather than heard anyone talking about me. They had plastered my name in the newspapers quite a few times in the past year and a half. I never set out to make a name for myself, and certainly not one as an amateur sleuth. Unfortunately, one of our reenactors met with a tragic end shortly after I came back to Grady to manage the Calico Rock Mine and Ghost Town. Then, less than a year later, there was the hit-and-run body I discovered, or maybe that one came after the dead accountant. Regardless, none of them had been something I wanted to be remembered for. Mrs. Fletcher must have read the look on my face, because with a bright smile, she continued. You've done so much to improve The Park.

Thank you, I said. Locals referred to the Calico Rock Mine and Ghost Town as The Park. While there might be some truth in her words, I didn't enjoy taking all the credit. The staff and crew at The Park did an outstanding job of creating the perfect atmosphere for our ghost town setting. Everyone's been so helpful, and I've enjoyed being back home.

Yes, this is where you belong. Mrs. Fletcher laid her warm, soft hand on my forearm. We really must get together. I miss your parents. They would be so proud of you. Your father was such a pillar of the community, and your mother was one of my dearest friends, always reaching out to others in need.

I miss them too. My parents died in a car accident while vacationing in Colorado several years ago. Lifelong residents of Grady, they had been active in the community and well liked among our neighbors. Dad had been a third-generation dairy farmer and married Mom right out of high school.

I'm sure you do. Mrs. Fletcher leaned closer and pressed her lips tight in a show of sympathy before adding, Why don't you come to the Cliff House for tea tomorrow?

The Fletchers owned several houses in the county, but after her husband died, Mrs. Fletcher mainly lived in her home on the top of the hill. They called the mansion the Cliff House because it overlooked the river. Sometimes when our mother went to visit her friend on the top of the hill, she'd take one of us to the mansion with her.

The invite was short notice, but since I had the day off tomorrow, it was perfect. Besides, my sisters would want to hear all about the visit. Being invited to the Fletcher mansion wasn't something to be taken lightly.

That would be nice. The last time I'd been to the Fletchers' was back in high school when our teacher, Mr. Rice, had arranged for the history class to have a meeting with the town historian. What time should I be there?

Why don't we say three? she said without hesitation, as if it were the natural conclusion, so I made a mental note of the time.

Lily! my younger sister, Ava, called from the sign-in table below the gazebo and waved me over. Someone has a question for you.

It's been nice seeing you again, Mrs. Fletcher. I stood, and she reached out to squeeze my hand and nodded. It would have been nice to sit and talk longer, but even on my day off, the committee members expected me to mingle as a representative of The Park.

For the next hour, Ava, our sister Pat, and I walked around the booths where local businesses had some of their wares on display. Our small, historical community had gained fame for the gold mine and ghost town attraction, as well as antique shops on Main Street.

Mom. Twelve-year-old Jill ran up to Pat. My niece and her twin brother, Jack Jr., were both tall for their age, with red hair and freckles. I want to show you something.

All right, Pat said to her daughter before looking my way. I'll catch up with you two later.

Hmm. Ava watched them walk away. I wonder what she wants to show her?

Ha, I laughed. And they say I'm the nosy one.

If I had to pick which of the three of us was the most inquisitive, it would have to be Ava. Pat was the bossy one, and as the middle child, I was the people pleaser. While Ava went to look at yarn, I stopped at a booth near the end of the row to admire the quilts Mrs. McDonald from Quilts R Us had laid out on a long foldup table. One in particular caught my attention, a three-piece campfire quilt pattern comforter and pillowcase set with dark-brown hues. I ran my hand across the soft material.

Do you like that one? Mrs. McDonald's daughter, Candice, stood on the other side of the table with a tight yet polite smile on her face. I got the feeling the older teenager would rather be out having fun than waiting on customers for her mother.

Yes, it's beautiful. I pulled back the fold to see the underside before giving the girl my full attention. Did you help make this one?

No. She brushed her dark-brown bangs out of her eyes and stooped to get a better look. I think Carrie helped with that one.

The McDonalds had four daughters, and all their names started with the letter C like their mother, Caroline. Regardless of who made it, the quilt in question would make the perfect present for Pat's upcoming birthday. She was so hard to shop for, but the moment I'd laid eyes on the blanket, I knew it was something she would love.

Quilts R Us sold some items on consignment, but the majority of their merchandise had been handmade by Mrs. McDonald and one of her daughters—Carrie, Candice, Cathy, or Callie.

Would you like to buy it? Candice wasn't the smoothest salesperson, standing there with her eyes lit with dollar signs.

Yes. I set my purse on top of the table and dug into it. The black leather tote had been a gift, and the inside resembled a bottomless pit. As always, it took a moment for me to find my wallet.

You really should get a new purse. Ava came over from the Book Nook's display with a bag of what must have been more reading material. So much for buying yarn. Books were a weakness for both of us. Before I could remind her the purse had been a Christmas present from our niece, Candice held out a large plastic bag with the store's logo on the side.

It's going to be a gift, and I don't want to be seen walking around with it, I told her. Can you set it aside and I'll pick it up at your store later this week?

I'd pocketed the receipt when Ava poked me on my left side with her elbow.

What? The word came out sounding snarky, but my ribs weren't feeling too happy with her at that moment.

Look who's back. Ava grinned and then jutted her chin in the direction of the entrance to the recreation area.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of Cody walking toward us. Out of uniform, he had on a fitted gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked around as if he were scanning the area. His piercing brown eyes stopped once his gaze landed on me.

Are you going to need a ride home? I asked my sister while keeping my eyes on Cody. She had ridden to the party with Cody and me in the Jeep.

No, she said. Parker's taking Jenny and me out for ice cream.

I had figured as much. Ava spent a lot of time with her boyfriend and his daughter.

All right, then. I'll see you when you get home, I said quickly as I continued toward Cody.

Welcome back. I met the handsome deputy halfway across the city park, next to the gazebo where many of the older generation sat watching the activity of the day's events.

Cody pulled me into a quick kiss. Did I miss anything? he asked, and I nodded with an exaggerated, wide-eyed grin.

Yes, actually you did.

I told him about the fight he'd missed, and then we held hands and strolled around the grounds until it was time for the celebration to end. Cleaning up was never fun, unless you had a good-looking muscle man to give you a hand. By the time Cody and I had loaded up the boxes of supplies we'd brought to the party, the picnic area had cleared. Jack, Pat, and the twins left over an hour ago, and Ava was off with Parker and his daughter, Jenny.

So. Cody wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned closer to whisper in my ear, even though we were alone. "Where's this