February is the month of love but we like our love stories served with a large slice of mystery. How about you? Start your week off right with something sweet, but not too sweet - sample an excerpt from MURDER TAKES THE CAKE
"Live turkeys or frozen ones?" Mac frowned at JJ. It didn't sound like much of a case. "Have I mentioned we should be aiming for jobs that pay actual cash?"
"Live turkeys. And there's money with this one."
There were a lot of turkeys in the nation's capital, but very few with actual feathers. "Live turkeys? Are you sure? In D.C.?"
"They were the backup team for the guys headed to the White House to get pardons."
"Why would someone pay to find them?" He laughed. "Especially, if they were the second string. My fee would be more than what they are worth."
"It's not only turkeys that are missing."
"JJ, do you want those fries some time today? Let's hear the whole story, but make it quick."
"The turkey farmer's employee, stock truck, and wife are all missing."
"And the contents of his savings account–$400,000 and change. He'd just sold some land. Needed the money to invest in some spin-off business."
"A turkey spin-off business? What? Gobbles in a Can?"
JJ narrowed her eyes and remained silent.
"Okay. Missing employee, truck, wife, turkeys, and money. What's our client the most interested in finding?"
JJ grinned. "The money of course. And the turkeys…but only if you find them before Thanksgiving, which means a rush job. He didn't seem too broken-up about the wife or the truck."
"Must have been an old truck." Mac sighed. "Okay. We'll do it. Give Edgar a call. He's been wanting to get his hands dirty on a job. He won't admit it, but I think since Elinor's sudden death, he's been lonely. Tell him to interview the farmer, neighbors, anyone who knew the wife, and any acquaintances of the hired hand. He can do it over the phone."
"So we're officially taking the case? He's offering a turkey and 5% of whatever we recover."
"Yeah, we'll take it. The cash, not the turkey. Something already smells funny."
"You're still thinking about the turkeys."
Mac chuckled. "Besides them. If you're running off with the boss's wife and a whole lot of money, why bother to haul around a load of smelly birds? Tell Edgar to make sure the two disappearances aren't just a coincidence. And get the farmer to sign a contract."
They both turned as the bells on the office door jingled.
A tall woman with red hair and an even redder leather bomber jacket walked in.
"Uncle Mac! Surprise!"
"Bridget!" Mac wasn't too surprised to see his goddaughter. He knew she was coming home this week for the holiday and to work on wedding plans. Plus, Jeff had mentioned the Thanksgiving dinner invitation again to him the day before, trying to get him to humor Kathleen and leave Whiskey at a kennel for the occasion. Now it appeared Bridget had been given the mission. The issue of abandoning his dog for the day aside, he'd really rather stay home with a six-pack of beer, take-out from his favorite pizza place, and a football game on his new flat screen television. "Whiskey and I are a team. I'm not leaving her behind even for a plateful of your mother's candied sweet potatoes."
"Good to see you too." Bridget gave him a hug. "You don't have to come to dinner. I'll eat your share of sweet potatoes. And pumpkin pie. But I do need something from you."
"You can't tell my father."
"I already don't like the sound of this."
"Someone is trying to kill me."
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