Duffy Brown's Blog: New Cozy Series - Posts Tagged "dead-man-walker"
On the run...
Walker Boone here from the lovely city of Savannah, Georgia. The azaleas are in bloom, the magnolias are big as dinner plates and I’m on the run.
In Dead Man Walker coming out Feb 3, I’ve got my very own story to tell. It’s from my point of view and that’s the good news. The bad news is that I’ve kind of gotten myself into one big huge mess and it looks like Reagan Summerside and Auntie KiKi are the only ones trying to get me out of it.
You see there was this dead guy in a bathtub. Not my bathtub but his own and my housekeeper happened to stumble across the body. If I remember right it went something like…
“See, there he is, Mr. Boone,” Mercedes
said to me. “Just like I told you on the
phone, Conway Adkins dead as a fence post
in his very own claw-foot bathtub and
naked as the day he was born.”
“I take you added the washcloth?” I
said to Mercedes, both of us standing
in the doorway and staring at the corpse.
“Couldn’t be having the man laying
there with his shrivelness all exposed to
the world now could I. Not proper for a
man his age.”
“Or for the rest of us,” I added.
At first Mercedes was the number one suspect. That was bad enough because she’s a friend and she can’t be beat as a housekeeper. On both accounts--and with my dust-bunnies threatening to mutiny—I went after the rear killer.
I didn’t have a lot of luck, in fact I almost got killed a few times and then...somehow...I wound up the number one suspect.
“This is circumstantial evidence,”
I said to Reagan as we stood on the
sidewalk outside my house. “The police
have to see that someone’s setting me
up to cover their own butt.”
“It’s your butt that needs covering,
Walker Boone,” Reagan offered. “The police
found your .38 and it matches the bullet
that killed Conway. The cops are on their
way. You got to get out of here right now.”
I looked at my red ‘57 Chevy
convertible parked at the curb. “Might
as well put a target on my back driving
this thing.”
Reagan shoved her helmet at me.
“Take Princess.”
“A scooter? You want me to ride
a pink scooter named Princess?”
“Better than that being your
nickname in the big house.”
So there you have it...Dead Man Walker and that’s just what I feel like, a dead man. How in the world am I ever going to get out of this one?
In Dead Man Walker coming out Feb 3, I’ve got my very own story to tell. It’s from my point of view and that’s the good news. The bad news is that I’ve kind of gotten myself into one big huge mess and it looks like Reagan Summerside and Auntie KiKi are the only ones trying to get me out of it.
You see there was this dead guy in a bathtub. Not my bathtub but his own and my housekeeper happened to stumble across the body. If I remember right it went something like…
“See, there he is, Mr. Boone,” Mercedes
said to me. “Just like I told you on the
phone, Conway Adkins dead as a fence post
in his very own claw-foot bathtub and
naked as the day he was born.”
“I take you added the washcloth?” I
said to Mercedes, both of us standing
in the doorway and staring at the corpse.
“Couldn’t be having the man laying
there with his shrivelness all exposed to
the world now could I. Not proper for a
man his age.”
“Or for the rest of us,” I added.
At first Mercedes was the number one suspect. That was bad enough because she’s a friend and she can’t be beat as a housekeeper. On both accounts--and with my dust-bunnies threatening to mutiny—I went after the rear killer.
I didn’t have a lot of luck, in fact I almost got killed a few times and then...somehow...I wound up the number one suspect.
“This is circumstantial evidence,”
I said to Reagan as we stood on the
sidewalk outside my house. “The police
have to see that someone’s setting me
up to cover their own butt.”
“It’s your butt that needs covering,
Walker Boone,” Reagan offered. “The police
found your .38 and it matches the bullet
that killed Conway. The cops are on their
way. You got to get out of here right now.”
I looked at my red ‘57 Chevy
convertible parked at the curb. “Might
as well put a target on my back driving
this thing.”
Reagan shoved her helmet at me.
“Take Princess.”
“A scooter? You want me to ride
a pink scooter named Princess?”
“Better than that being your
nickname in the big house.”
So there you have it...Dead Man Walker and that’s just what I feel like, a dead man. How in the world am I ever going to get out of this one?
New Cozy Series
Murder, Mayhem and 4 of a Kind is the first book in my new cozy series, High Cotton Mysteries.
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