What follows after the jump is the first scene of my next book. It is here for you to enjoy. That said, the copyright is mine as it is my original work. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think in the comments!

Dastardly Deeds and Possible Parricide

My phone sounded off with a ring tone that I had heard a bit too much in the last two days. It’s Chopin’s Funeral March. I set that particular tune for my ex, Tony. The man I left behind in Boston after he stole my article for the Gazette.

It had been over two months since I returned to my hometown of Black Ridge Cove, Maine. While I’ve felt like it was a time of transition recently, I’ve made headway into my future. I’ve had my rooms in Grammie’s house turned into a suite for me so that I feel less like I’m living in my childhood bedroom and more like an adult in her own space. I’ve taken steps to re-opening my grandfather’s newspaper, The Cove Post. And I’ve fully embraced being a puppy mom to my yellow lab, Baxter. He was a gift from another of my ex-boyfriends, but let’s not get into that.

I put my phone back in my coat pocket and pulled on the leash. He had finished doing his business and was simply looking for a scent to follow. I wanted to get him going in the right direction before he found one and pulled me the opposite way.

“Come on, Baxter. Grammie and Mae are waiting,” I said.

We arrive in the driveway of Mae Anderson’s home, about a half-mile walk back behind the house where I lived with my grandmother. Mae was a strong-willed old woman who I had known all my life. She was Grammie’s best friend, probably since birth considering they were both born and raised here. I think their mothers may have been second or third cousins, but that could be said for many of the people who lived in Maine’s small towns. Their husbands were also best buds. I can remember quite a few of their double dating stories.

I latched Baxter using the chain attached to the back porch so he could run around for a little while and disperse some of his unceasing energy. Stepping into the mudroom, I stomped the snow off my boots, unlaced, and took them off, careful not to step in the melting snow on the floor. I dropped the tote I was carrying and took off my coat, hanging it on one of the hooks provided. I picked the tote back up and walked into the kitchen’s back door, grateful for the warmth. I rubbed my hands together and called out, “I’m here!”

Silence. That was odd.

I had expected to find them in the kitchen having one of their quick-paced and sharp-witted conversations that only the two could follow – not that they wanted it any other way. But they weren’t there. Instead, the table was taken by the Bouchard brothers playing cribbage. The three brothers were some of the first ghosts I had ever spoken to. But, while seeing them usually gives me a sense of calm, the dead silence in the rest of the house was foreboding.

I walked through the dining room, down the hall, to the living room, where I stopped in the doorway. Sitting on either side of a long coffee table were Mae and Grammie. Grammie was on the couch with knitting in her lap. Mae was sharing her lounge chair with her Siamese cat, Simone. They looked like they were having a staring contest. Only they weren’t eyeballing each other. Instead, they were looking at a three-foot mound of cash haphazardly stacked on the coffee table between them.

After a few seconds of trying to wrap my head around the scene, I asked, “Who won the lottery?”

Grammie blinked and came to her senses. She turned to me and said, “Oh, Libby! I didn’t hear you come in.”

Mae looked up at me, seemingly still in her trance, and said, “It’s Tim’s money.”

“Tim? Your nephew?”

She nodded.

“Tim has been staying with Mae since last September when his dad moved to California,” Grammie said.

I took a step into the room, trying to calculate how much money was on the table. It was impossible to tell because some of it was neatly stacked, but most wasn’t. And the neat stacks weren’t even done at a bank unless banks had started to use colorful hair bands and scrunchies to tie together their money.

“Yes, you mentioned it some time ago,” I said. Then, turning to Mae, I continued, “Where did you find it?”

“I was cleaning and doing laundry. I thought I would wash his clothes since he just throws his things everywhere. Tried to open the top drawer to put some clothes in, and it wouldn’t come out. So, I checked why it was stuck. All this money was shoved into the bureau,” she said. “I carried the drawers down here, put it all on the table, and called Grace. I told her to bring some more of her homemade jam, and I would make us some breakfast.”

“So the two of you have been sitting here, staring at that pile of money since this morning?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Libby,” Mae admonished. “We spent most of the morning trying to add it up. But, we couldn’t seem to stay on count.”

“The number got too high. Probably should have written it down at eighty-two thousand or marked them as we were going. We kept forgetting which pile we had added,” Grammie explained.

“There is more than eighty-two thousand dollars here? Are you planning on asking Tim where he got it? Or calling the sheriff to see if there has been a robbery somewhere?”

Grammie leaned to the side to see around the mound of money. “See Mae, I told you that is too much money for any job! Even Libby thinks we should call the sheriff,” she said.

“I am not calling the sheriff on my own family when I don’t know what is happening. I’m going to get a better explanation out of Tim. Then, I’ll make him go to the sheriff.” She looked up at me, “He really is a good boy, Libby. Just gets himself all caught up in trouble.”

I nodded and put the tote down. I sat next to Grammie on the couch, looking at the money as I pondered about the situation more. Funnily enough, I realized that I would look like they did to me a few minutes ago if anyone came in now.

“Wait. Mae… you are going to get a better explanation? Have you already asked him?”

The two women tried to look over the mound at each other, obviously trying to figure out which one would answer me. I’m unsure how they decided, but Grammie must have drawn the short straw.

“He came home about an hour ago,” Grammie said. “He said the money is from working because he gets paid under the table. So he told Mae to put it back.”

“What kind of a job is he working?” I asked.

“As far as I know, odd jobs for Talon Real Estate and Jennings Auto Sales. Maybe a few other people…” Mae said. She seemed to be thinking out loud. “I think he was doing some moving for the Romanos. He is always busy, but I wonder how he can get paid so much.”

“So, hauling this tote bag of quilt magazines here for you was not why you wanted me to come?” I asked, looking at Grammie.

“No,” she said, still staring at the mountain of bills.

“Well, it was one of the reasons,” Mae said, nodding to Grammie. “I’m looking forward to organizing those new quilt patterns.”

“But we would also like to know what you think we should do about this,” Granny said, pointing at the money.

I thought it through. It was the beginning of March. If he had put all of his pay in cash in a drawer since September, it wouldn’t add up to the amount on the coffee table. Something was off.

“I would put it back in his room. Then, I would ask him for a better explanation and talk to him about confiding in the sheriff. Whether or not he does, you should. I’m sorry. I don’t have any other bright ideas for this one,” I said.

May nodded, and I could see she was tearing up. I felt terrible for her, and I hope her nephew wasn’t too deep into whatever this pile of funds was about.

“Grams, I’m going to take Baxter home. Do you want me to wait for you before I leave to have dinner with Mel and Nikki?”

“No, dear. I’ll help Mae put the money back, and we will get something to eat. See you tomorrow morning since I don’t think I will stay up late,” she said.

I waited for a beat before saying goodbye and walked out of the room. I have got to be missing something, but what could it be? I am sure I’ll have it all figured out ten minutes after I need to know.

Whether I figure it out or not, I will talk to Kyle in the next couple of days in the hopes Mae and Tim have talked to him. If not, I will definitely fill him in. I don’t want to push my way into someone else’s business. But if I ignore it, Grammie or Mae could get hurt. I can’t let that happen.

I grabbed Baxter’s leash, gave him a pat on the head, and walked home.