Goody Goody Gunshots

Table of Contents

 

 

PRAISE FOR THE Candy Shop Mysteries

“A sweet tale of the coziest kind! Mix a little chocolate with a dash of murder and a pinch of deception, and you get
Candy Apple Dead
, a new mystery that is sweet, deadly, and highly entertaining . . . A lively, fast-paced story of sweet and sour.”

—
The Best Reviews

 
“A promising new mystery series. Abby is a wonderful new character . . . Anyone with even a minor sweet tooth will enjoy the various descriptions and recipes included here.”

 
“Small-town intrigue, a juicy conflict or two, and some fun characters are the highlights of this story, which launches what will probably be an exceedingly popular new series. Carter has a very accessible style—and is equally talented at inducing sugar cravings in the reader. Dieters beware!”

 
“Delightful start to a new mystery series featuring a feisty heroine . . . An engaging, entertaining tale . . . Abby is a sensible, believable heroine. She’s strong, yet vulnerable, and definitely feisty! The story moves along at a quick pace . . . And the Divine Almond Toffee . . . yummy!”
—Fresh Fiction

 
“A delicious whodunit full of interesting, well-developed characters. I can’t wait for the next installment!”

—Affaire de Coeur
(four and a half stars)

 
“An exciting one-sitting amateur-sleuth tale . . . Readers will appreciate [Abby’s] spunk and desire to insure justice occurs.”
—Midwest Book Review

CANDY APPLE DEAD
CHOCOLATE DIPPED DEATH
PEPPERMINT TWISTED
GOODY GOODY GUNSHOTS

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

 
GOODY GOODY GUNSHOTS 
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / September 2008

 
Copyright © 2008 by The Berkley Publishing Group.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

eISBN : 978-0-425-22332-1

 
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks
belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Chapter 1

A chill November wind howled outside the win
dows of my car as I pulled into the drive outside my brother’s old farmhouse. Lights spilled from the windows, making the house look warm and welcoming, and I allowed myself a moment’s regret that I wouldn’t be going inside. In the distance, the Colorado Rockies formed a protective barrier around the valley and the town of Paradise. I could see their snow-covered spines arching upward in the moonlight to meet the night sky.

Trees towered over the two-story house, and even from where I sat I could hear the branches scratching the walls of the old house. Dry leaves and bits of dirt scuttled across the gravel driveway. A cool gust of wind filled the car as the back doors opened and my nephews, Brody and Caleb, spilled happily out into the storm. Each clutched a small tin of their favorite candy under one arm. With a wave, nine-year-old Caleb raced up the driveway and disappeared into the kitchen. His older brother Brody hung back for a minute.

My sister-in-law, Elizabeth, appeared in the kitchen window and peered out into the darkness. I flashed my lights, hoping she’d realize that Brody was still with me.

A gust of wind swept a lock of Brody’s dark blond hair into his eyes. Looking far too serious for a twelve-year-old, he reached back into the car for his basketball, and I was struck by his resemblance to my brother. When he suddenly grinned, the resemblance grew even stronger. “So, have you thought about it?”

He was like his father in more than just looks. Neither of them had any patience, and once they got their teeth into something, they didn’t let go. Elizabeth said it was a trait all of us Shaws shared, but I couldn’t see it in myself.

Since Wyatt had to work late and Elizabeth had had a conflicting engagement, I’d gone with the boys to their Youth League basketball game that evening. Frankly, I’d jumped at the chance. I’d lived away for most of their lives, and I welcomed every opportunity I could find to bond with them now.

Once there, they’d talked me into sitting on the bench in the empty assistant coach’s spot to keep the team from forfeiting the game. It wasn’t until the game was over and the three of us were eating pizza and chugging Cokes that my sneaky little nephews revealed their true reason for asking me to come with them tonight.

I motioned for Brody to get in out of the wind. “You only asked me about being assistant coach an hour ago. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

“If you think about it too much, you might say no,” Brody said impatiently. “Please? We need you there.”

I laughed and shifted into park. “So your nefarious plan is to lock me into a promise before I can say no? Nice try, but I know better than to think you
need
me. I’d be about as useless when it comes to coaching a team as your dad would be in the candy shop.”

Brody’s smile faded. “That’s not true. Dad said you used to play on a team and everything.”

“That was many years ago. I’ve forgotten everything I used to know.” His little face registered such disappointment, I looked away before it could influence me. I’m a sucker when it comes to Wyatt’s four kids, and they all know it. “In case you didn’t notice, I didn’t do anything tonight.”

“You don’t have to
do
anything,” Brody insisted. “Coach knows plenty. We just need another grown-up there, or we can’t play anymore.”

I made the mistake of looking at Brody, and a powerful auntlike instinct urged me to say yes. Unfortunately, I had half a dozen good reasons for saying no. “Don’t you think Coach Hendrix would rather have an assistant coach who knows something about the game?”

“He doesn’t care. Honest! He likes doing everything himself.”

I laughed, knowing that what he said was probably true. Kerry Hendrix was a bit of a control freak. I didn’t want to give Brody false hope, but that aunt thing poked at me again and made me ask, “How often do you guys practice?”

“Mostly once a week.” Brody shifted his weight around, and his gaze dropped to his hands. “Sometimes two. And then there are the games. We usually play once or twice a week.”

“You’d need me three or four days
every week
?”

“Yeah, but only for a couple of hours, and it’s after work. Mostly.”

Four days a week probably didn’t sound like much to a kid, but I’d only inherited Divinity a couple of years earlier, and I was barely keeping up with the candy shop’s demands as it was. With just two of us working sales, and one of me hand-making the majority of the candy we sold, when did I have time to do anything extra?

I knew I should say no. I
had
to say no. But then I looked at Brody’s little face again, and my resolve dissolved like sugar in hot water. I’m such a sucker. For the past two years, I’d been searching for some way to connect with the boys. Now one had landed in my lap. How could I turn my back on it? But I also had responsibilities, obligations to Karen and to the shop. How could I say yes?

Knowing I’d cave in if I stayed there even a minute longer, I made myself say, “I don’t know, Brody. I’m going to have to think about it.”

“But we have to prove to the league that we have another coach in two days. If we don’t, we can’t play this season.”

“I understand that,” I said, “but I’m not sure I can commit to something that’s going to take so much time. I have to consider what’s best for the shop.”

“Can’t Karen take care of the store while you’re gone?”

Karen was my cousin and assistant manager of Divinity. Actually, she knew more about the candy-making business than I did, but I was learning. “Karen and I are barely keeping our heads above water the way things are right now,” I told Brody. “If I disappear four times a week, the whole thing might go under.”

Disappointment flashed across his face, but he tried to look brave. “Okay.”

I felt like a weasel. “I’m not saying no,” I said, backpedaling so I wouldn’t have to see his little chin quiver. “I’ll still come out here tomorrow and talk to Coach Hendrix like I said I would.”