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  “I had to stop him,” she explained, trembling as I hugged her. “Can I go to the hospital?” she asked Tucker.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ll get a statement from you later,” Tucker told her.

  “She’s not in trouble is she?” I asked as she followed the stretcher carrying her husband out the door.

  Tucker shook his head and pulled me close again. “We’ll figure it out. My question is, what are you doing here and how did you get him to confess?”

  “It just occurred to me that no one had asked Helen Taylor the same thing they’d asked the others. I came here, hoping to find out something. Robert came in and confessed that he’d killed Mr. Nettle. He’d seen the note in the mailbox, too, and...”

  “What note?”

  “It’s a long story. Can I go back to the diner?”

  Tucker chuckled, kissed my forehead and, finally, let me go. “You head home. I’ll wrap this up and come by to see you later.”

  When I stepped outside, the ambulance was pulling away from the curb, siren already warbling. Poppy ran toward me, screaming my name.

  “Are you okay?” she gasped, looking me up and down, turning me around as if I was hiding something from her.

  “I’m fine, Poppy. I just want to go home,” I said, feeling suddenly so exhausted I didn’t think I could put one foot in front of the other.

  “You have no business driving.”

  “But my car...”

  Come with me. Tom will drive your car,” Poppy said, taking charge.

  For once, I was happy to let someone else run the show.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The diner was hopping as usual. Mrs. Blake sat in a sunny window, nibbling her bran muffin. Eva and Anna Lord and Tiffany were at their usual table with their heads together. At least it wasn’t me they were plotting revenge against this time. In fact, they practically ignored me altogether. Gladys was busy in the kitchen, turning out breakfast as fast as she could. Tom Brown had already come and gone and Poppy was ringing up customers.

  Mayor Gillespie was seated at the end of the counter, finishing the last of his eggs and bacon. He was dressed casually even though it was a Wednesday.

  “Going to visit your mom today?” I asked as I topped off his cup.

  “Yeah, the nurses tell me she’s really perky when she knows I’m coming to visit,” he said with grin.

  As it turned out, Mayor Gillespie’s biological mother was in a nursing home less than a hundred miles away and he’d been going to see her on a regular basis every Wednesday and on the weekend for the past few weeks. She had given birth to him when she was very young and had been forced to give him up for adoption. It was a miracle Helen found her and helped them reunite.

  “Good for you,” I said. “And taking some time off is good for you as well.”

  “Well, Sugar Hill is in pretty good hands,” he added.

  As if on cue, Tucker Ashe sauntered into the diner. He’d traded his gray state police uniform for the dark blue one of the city. In spite of myself, my stomach did a little flip at the sight of the big, handsome man and not just because of the uniform.

  “Going to see your mom?” Tucker asked, taking a seat beside the mayor. If he was aware of the effect he had on me, he ignored it.

  “Yep,” Mayor Gillespie said, his grin growing even wider.

  “We’ll try to hold down the fort while you’re gone,” Tucker assured him.

  Yeah, that big decision that Tucker had to make, the one his officers said he should discuss with me. He never did. He decided he could be our brand new police chief without any coaxing from me at all.

  “Hey, Mama is moving to Florida with Romeo,” Tucker announced after the mayor left.

  “Oh, yeah?” I said.

  “Yeah, she signed the house over to me. I’ll be staying there while Tom helps me with the remodel,” he said.

  “I was wondering if you were just going to have a permanent room at Rebel’s Roost,” I teased, placing a cup in front of him and filling it with black coffee.

  Tucker laughed.

  “It’s hard to picture you settling down back here in Sugar Hill,” I said. “I mean you’ve been all over the world.”

  “Sometimes when I think about it, it surprises me, too,” he said. “But this feels right, like it was time to come back home.” With a wink he added, “If nothing else, to keep you out of trouble.”

  Me being in trouble reminded me of Robert Taylor. “How is Robert, by the way?” I asked.

  “He’s gonna pull through,” Tucker said. “He confessed to the shooting but is trying to make it sound like it was in the heat of passion. His lawyer is trying to get the murder charge reduced to manslaughter.”

  “What about attempted murder? He tried to kill the mayor and he was going to kill me, too.” I asked.

  “One thing at a time, Doll-face,” he said.

  And that reminded me of Joe Wheeler. I’d gotten an email from him just the night before. He was doing great and, believe it or not, missed tiny Sugar Hill just a little bit. He still hadn’t found someone to run the paper down here so he was doing it remotely and that seemed to be working just fine. He hadn’t missed an issue yet and there was plenty of news since Robert’s confession and arrest.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Tucker said, after I’d put in his breakfast order, filled everyone’s cups and then returned to the counter. “Mayor Gillespie didn’t want anyone to know that Helen was helping him track down his biological mother. He set up secret meetings with Helen either at her home or other places via notes.”

  “Right. He knew cell phone calls and texts could be tracked.”

  “Why the secrecy?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “So, Mr. Nettle found the note from the mayor in her mailbox, wrote down the date and time, which we found in his pocket.”

  “Yes, I’m thinking he either wanted to see who she was meeting or maybe get there early and try to convince her that he was the ‘one’ for her,” I told him.

  “But because of the storm, Helen and the mayor didn’t meet that morning.”

  I nodded. “Mr. Nettle showed up and Robert shot him, thinking he was his wife’s lover.”

  “That’s crazy,” Tucker said, digging into his breakfast with gusto.

  “Then he saw her out with Mayor Gillespie showing off her new car, realized he killed the wrong man and tried to kill him at the festival.”

  “Thank goodness he missed.”

  I nodded. “And thank goodness Helen had that gun in her kitchen or I’d be dead as well.”

  “Interesting story about that weapon Helen used,” Tucker said. “Obviously her husband didn't know she had it or he wouldn't have turned his back on her. It was a brand new gun, so tracking down the sale didn't take a great deal of detective work even in a town with three gun stores.”

  I held my breath waiting.

  “That gun was a thank you gift from Mayor Gillespie because she had helped him find his mom. She’d expressed an interest in having a small hand gun and...” Tucker ended with a shrug.

  “None of this had anything to do with money,” I reminded him.

  Tucker shook his head. “They sure had me fooled.”

  I waved at some customers as they left and felt myself relaxing as the morning rush began to thin out. “You’ve been gone a long time, Tucker Ashe. Maybe you forgot how things work in a little town like Sugar Hill.”

  “Well thank goodness I’ve got you on hand to help me learn the ropes.” He shot me a hungry look that sent shivers down to my toes. “If you give me a chance, I think I can teach you a thing or two as well.”

  I smiled to myself and turned away, not sure what the future held, but more than ready to find out.

  Starla’s Chocolate Peppermint Surprise Cupcakes

  ½ cup salted butter

  2 ounces mint chocolate chips

  1/2 cup cocoa powder

  3/4 cup self-rising flour (spoon & leveled)


  2 large eggs, at room temperature

  1/2 cup granulated sugar

  1/2 cup packed light brown sugar

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  ½ teaspoon peppermint extract

  1/2 cup buttermilk, room temperature

  VANILLA FROSTING

  1 cup unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

  4 - 5 cups confectioners' sugar

  1/4 cup heavy cream

  1 teaspoons vanilla extract

  peppermint extract

  salt, to taste

  green food coloring

  crushed candy canes or mint candies

  INSTRUCTIONS

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

  Melt the butter and chocolate together in the microwave on medium power stirring every 30 seconds or on low heat on the stovetop. Once fully melted stir in a heaping tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder. Set aside to cool.

  In a medium bowl combine remaining cocoa powder and flour. In a large bowl whisk together eggs, sugar, brown sugar, vanilla and peppermint. Whisk the butter/chocolate mixture into the large bowl then stir in buttermilk. Gradually add flour mixture and stir until just combined, batter will be very thick.

  Line a muffin tin with 12 cupcake liners. Spoon batter evenly into the cupcake liners. Bake until toothpick comes out clean when inserted, about 18 minutes. Cool cupcakes completely before frosting.

  Make Frosting: Beat softened butter on medium speed until smooth and creamy. Add powdered sugar, a splash of cream, vanilla extract, peppermint extract, and a pinch of salt and beat on high until frosting is fluffy, about 1-3 minutes, scraping down sides when necessary. Add more cream if frosting is too thick or more powdered sugar if frosting is too thin. Once frosting has reached desired consistency add more peppermint extract and/or salt to taste if necessary.

  Once cupcakes are completely cooled, use a large straw to remove a ‘plug’ from the center of each cupcake. Tint a small amount of frosting with the green food coloring and add a tiny bit of peppermint extract. Mix well. Using a bag and round tip, fill to the hole in the center of the cupcakes. Push the ‘plug’ back into the cupcake. Fill frosting bag with the remainder of the frosting (white or green, as you wish) and pipe onto cupcakes. Drizzle (or use another frosting bag to dot) melted chocolate on cupcakes. Sprinkle with crushed candy canes and serve!

  Egg Noggin

  Chapter One

  Jenny came around the corner of the Cooper Sisters eggnog booth, swallowing the last bite of her sugar cookie and cringing at the Christmas music blasting from the speaker right over her head. Not that she didn’t like Christmas music - she did - but this was loud enough that she felt the rousing beat of Jingle Bells all the way down her spine.

  Sissy was inside the booth, leaning in close to Eliza Crane, whispering and pouring something into her eggnog cup. Mrs. Crane always reminded Jenny of a garden gnome for some reason. She was the new county clerk, but before that, a million years ago, she’d been Jenny’s softball coach. She still had really great forearms for a woman her age.

  Over in the corner, Chuck the Cluck watched the commotion from inside his cage. Sissy had dressed him in a red vest and teeny tiny Santa hat over his comb, insisting that he would feel hurt if they left him at home and he missed the festival. He looked adorable and ridiculous, all at once, especially with the little fake holly wreath around his neck.

  With his head cocked the way chickens did, he always looked suspicious. Of course, right now Jenny was probably looking pretty suspicious herself as she headed for Sissy’s table.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Jenny yelled. She could barely hear herself, so she went back to the thick corner post, swatted a strand of lights out of the way, and repositioned the speaker so that it was pointing out toward the crowd filling the fairgrounds. That was a little better. “Sissy?”

  Sissy’s skinny form jumped, and she quickly dropped the little travel-sized bottle to her side and turned around. She was wearing an elf costume that was supposed to be sexy, but she’d added black sweat pants under the skirt. She just looked homeless. A half grin scrunched her nose, but she tried to look ashamed. “What?”

  Mrs. Crane turned around too, a thick eggnog mustache coating the space between her lip and her nose. Her eyes were sparkling brighter than the Christmas lights that hung from the ceiling. She licked her lip, grinned at Jenny, waved, and disappeared. Jenny watched her go, fighting a smile. The she put a hand on her hip, pointed at the tell-tale bottle, and stared Sissy down. “I can still see it.”

  Sissy made a face. “So what? It’s just a little something to warm folks up. And it’s traditional.”

  Jenny dropped the stance and rubbed her forehead. It was going to be a long night, and it had only just started an hour ago.

  They were running the eggnog stand at the Winter Festival this year. Well, Sissy was, because she had volunteered them. Jenny wanted to come and watch the kids’ parade and drink hot cocoa and have a night off. It had started snowing this morning, finally, and it was starting to feel like Christmas.

  One thing that Jenny and Sissy agreed on - Christmas was the very best time of the year. The chickens were snug in their run, their farmhouse was cozy and warm, and they had a little more time to relax in front of the fire. Jenny always spent the time catching up on her reading, while Sissy worked on her never-ending box of knitted scarves and hats. Running a chicken farm was hard work, three seasons of the year, and Jenny liked slowing down in the winter.

  She walked around the table that stood in the center of the open-air booth and took the tiny bottle out of Sissy’s hand. Bacardi. “Are you at least asking first?”

  “Of course. I’m not dumb, Jenny. Only a very few of our most trusted friends get a splash.” Sissy winked.

  Jenny couldn’t help it - she laughed. “We’re friends with almost everyone in town. This must be costing you a fortune.”

  Sissy shrugged and turned back to her giant ceramic bowl. “I’m sharing my Christmas spirit...s.”

  Jenny watched her pour a separate bowl of fluffy egg whites and fold them in. “That looks good.”

  “It is good, silly. My secret recipe.” Sissy smacked Jenny’s arm with the spatula before slipping into a bowl of sudsy hot water.

  “Ew, gross.” Jenny made a face at the white gloppy mess on her wrist. She considered licking it off.

  Then she realized that people might be watching, so she grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned herself up.

  “It’s not your secret recipe. You found it online.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Sissy threatened her with a new, clean spatula, but she was grinning, too.

  Jenny laughed and ducked away. Then she set the rum on the shelf under the table and leaned in to watch. Sissy was the cook in the family. She made it look so pretty and easy. “Can I help?”

  “Please don’t.”

  Jenny sniffed. “Fine, then. When does your help get here?”

  Sissy looked up and frowned, then checked her watch. “Actually, she’s late.”

  “Want me to call her? Just in case?” Jenny asked. Wilma van Winklet was a sweet woman, but she wasn’t always the most reliable.

  Jenny was already turning away to make that call when Sissy pointed with the spatula. “Look out!” she squeaked, just as something heavy slammed into Jenny’s back and pinned her against the serving table. When she opened her eyes, her face was two inches from a punchbowl of creamy eggnog.

  “I am so, so sorry, y’all!” Wilma van Winklet said, pulling on Jenny’s shoulder to help her up.

  Jenny gave Wilma a weak smile. Sissy’s help had arrived.

  Chapter Two

  Wilma van Winklet was the daughter of the richest woman in town. Not that anybody would know - Wilma and her mother, Margaret van Winklet, didn’t exactly get along. In fact, they were polar opposites. Where Margaret was stately and slow, Wilma tended to be a little clumsy and airheaded. Margaret wore her reputation like a mantle. Wilma didn’t seem to real
ize that she had one, and that irked Margaret to no end.

  More than once, Jenny had wondered if they ever spoke to each other at all. There were rumors that Margaret would only communicate with her only daughter by registered mail, but Jenny didn’t know if that was true. The thought made her a little sad - Christmas was supposed to be about family, and Wilma, as wild as she was sometimes, always seemed a little like a lost lamb.

  Tonight she was wearing an elf costume, too, except that hers was made of some fake white fur and plush leopard print material. The orange-ish part of the print matched her hair. She even had a matching Santa hat with a big white ball on the end. It bounced perilously close to her eye before she batted it away. Jenny caught a glimpse of her perfect neon yellow manicure.

  “You all right, sugah?” Wilma asked again. She leaned heavily against the table, lifted one of her feet, and massaged her ankle.

  Jenny saw immediately why Wilma had fallen. She was wearing black stiletto heels that must have been six inches high.

  “You’re going to break your neck in those things,” Jenny said. “Especially in this town.” As much as she loved the little town of Cooper, Tennessee, there were infrastructure issues. The sidewalks hadn’t been repaved in decades, and they were starting to crumble.

  Wilma laughed. “You’d think I would know better, wouldn’t you?” she said, dropping her foot. She turned to Sissy. “I just got away from the range. The nicest man was helping me with my stance. Anyway, I’ve got a pair of those little slip-on sneakers in my car. I’ll change later. Did you know I had to park all the way back in the overflow lot? Is this the biggest celebration we’ve ever had, or what?”

  Jenny and Sissy exchanged a look. If Wilma was at the local shooting range in that outfit, her stance was the last thing on her mind. As far as Jenny knew, she’d always been single and not many women in town trusted her around their husbands.

  Not that she didn’t get attention from the single men, but according to Sissy, they skedaddled when they discovered that the family money wasn’t hers.