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“All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.”
Mark Taylor started to ease himself out of the booth but then paused. He didn’t want to leave.
Andi raised her eyebrows.
“You know, Sheriff,” he said. “I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills might be a little rusty, but he thought offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any details out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I’ll let you know.”
He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”
Dear Reader,
A Minute on the Lips began with a single scene that popped into my head as I was driving. I was taking a break from a local writer’s contest and mulling over how I could write a beginning chapter with mystery elements.
I was also lost. This happens to me when I explore new places.
While driving in circles in the small town I’d chosen to explore for the day and searching for a fabric store, I passed a diner on the town square. The group of business-suited men gathered out front sparked an idea and became a collection of fun characters I’d never met. I enjoyed finding out their stories.
I hope that when you meet them, you’ll smile, too.
Cheryl Harper
A Minute on the Lips
Cheryl Harper
CHERYL HARPER discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether it’s the prairie, the American West, Regency England or earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog Jack snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.
For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at www.cherylharperbooks.com or follow her on Twitter: @cherylharperbks.
Deciding to call myself a writer has been a scary and amazing journey. I’m lucky enough to have great family and friends who never hesitated to encourage me, thought I could do it when I wasn’t so sure, and always laughed in the right spots. And I owe a special thanks to my friend Susan, who took me to my first writing workshop and has supplied so many great titles like A Minute on the Lips through the years.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
“OTHER DUTIES AS assigned” should be etched on Sheriff Andrea Jackson’s office door. In fact, that could be the entire job description wrapped up in one neat phrase. As she drove into town, Andi had no idea what the day might bring—investigating, wild-animal wrangling, babysitting or some crazy-making combination of all three with an added wild-card adventure.
Andi made the full circle around the redbrick courthouse before she headed toward the office. As she pulled to a stop in front of the sign that read Reserved for Sheriff, Nettie, the part-time dispatcher, walked out to meet her.
“Morning, Sheriff, hon. Jackie over at the diner called to demand an investigation of his crime scene.” She held up a cup of steaming black coffee. “I think you better head on over there first thing.”
“Thanks, Nettie,” Andi mumbled as she latched on to the cup and dragged it through the window. Caffeine didn’t do much to wake her up after sleepless nights, but it did signal to her brain that it was time to get to work.
Campaigning and elections made it hard to sleep. Instead of getting up to do something productive that calmed her worries—like knitting or reading or eating half a gallon of ice cream—she’d stubbornly clung to her pillow and given herself the “go to sleep” lecture. That never worked. Neither did logically pointing out that she had only this many hours to sleep. One worry led to one regret, which led to a long guilt trip or a short visit to Anxiousville, population: one. The middle of the night could be rough. As the number of hours available to sleep shrank, so did her ability to do anything other than stare at the clock.
After a quick sip of coffee, Andi buckled her seat belt again and waved. “I’ll head over there first, Nettie. If anything important comes up, use the radio.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff, hon,” Nettie answered. “Good luck!”
Andi nodded and pulled away. Nettie had been a bingo buddy of Andi’s grandmother since bingo was invented. Even though Andi was an adult member of the county’s law enforcement team, Nettie had a hard time adjusting, so more times than not, she said “Sheriff, hon.” It didn’t bother Andi enough to try to change it, and she needed every good-luck wish she could get. This was not her first run-in with Jackie. He took his food very seriously, had the sheriff’s office on speed dial and loved the threat of a good lawsuit.
As Andi rolled to a stop in front of the diner, she thought the town of Tall Pines might be at full capacity. It was going to be hot again, but cars lined both sides of the two-lane highway through the middle of town. October was the height of the season, and even though it was unusually warm, traffic had picked up accordingly. Arts-and-crafts fans meandered along the sidewalks. They might have wandered on into Jackie’s Country Kitchen except he had the door barred and a small group blocked the entrance.
Andi could see Jackie’s beady, excited eyes over the top of the crowd. He was standing on the bench he’d pulled over to block the door to the diner. Andi would need to get that fixed pretty darn quick or she and Jackie would both be on the mayor’s hit list.
Andi glanced over the crowd as she asked, “Jackie, what seems to be the