Frozen Stiff Drink E-Book

James J. Cudney

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

A winter blizzard barrels toward Wharton County with a vengeance. 

Madam Zenya predicted the raging storm would change Kellan’s life, but the famed seer never could’ve prepared him for all the collateral damage. After Nana D disappears, one of her patients turns up dead and a second body is discovered beneath the snowbanks, Kellan must face his worst fears.

Between finding Nana D and solving the scandalous murder of another prominent Braxton citizen, Kellan and April’s worlds explode with more turmoil than they can handle. Unfortunately, neither one of them knows what to do about the psychic's latest premonition.

Can Kellan find Nana D - and who is the killer terrorizing the town?

Leseprobe

Frozen Stiff Drink

Braxton Campus Mystery Book 6

James J. Cudney

Copyright (C) 2020 James J. Cudney

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2020 by Next Chapter

Published 2020 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Acknowledgments

Writing a book is not an achievement an individual person can accomplish on his or her own. There are always people who contribute in a multitude of ways, sometimes unwittingly, throughout the journey from discovering the idea to drafting the last word. Frozen Stiff Drink: Death at Danby Landing has had many supporters since its inception in September 2019, but before the concept even sparked in my mind, others nurtured my passion for writing.

First thanks go to my parents, Jim and Pat, for always believing in me as a writer and teaching me how to become the person I am today. Their unconditional love and support have been the primary reason I'm accomplishing my goals. Through the guidance of my extended family and friends, who consistently encouraged me to pursue my passion, I found the confidence to take chances in life. With Winston and Baxter by my side, I was granted the opportunity to make my dreams of publishing this novel come true. I'm grateful to everyone for pushing me each day to complete this book.

Frozen Stiff Drink was cultivated through the interaction with and feedback from several talented alpha and beta readers. I'd like to share a special call-out to Shalini for supplying insight and perspective during the development of the story, setting, and character arcs. I am indebted to her for countless conversations helping me to fine-tune every aspect of this tale. There were also several amazing members of the team who found most of my proofreading misses, grammar mistakes, and awkward phrases. I couldn't have completed this wonderful story without Misty, Anne, Laura, Lisa, Anne, and Nina. A major thanks to them for encouraging me to be stronger in my word choice and providing several pages of suggestions to convert good language into fantastic language.

Much gratitude to all my friends and mentors at Moravian College. Any mistakes are my own from misunderstanding our discussions.

Thank you to Next Chapter for publishing Frozen Stiff Drink and paving the road for more books to come. I look forward to our continued partnership.

Welcome to Braxton, Wharton County (Map drawn by Timothy J. R. Rains, Cartographer)

Who's Who in the Braxton Campus Mysteries?

Ayrwick Family

Kellan: Main Character, Braxton professor, amateur sleuth, dating AprilWesley: Kellan's father, Braxton's retired PresidentViolet: Kellan's mother, Braxton's Admissions DirectorEmma: Kellan's daughter with FrancescaHampton: Kellan's older brother, attorney, married to NatashaEleanor: Kellan's younger sister, owns Pick-Me-Up Diner, dating MannyGabriel: Kellan's younger brother, dating SamPenelope: Kellan's older sisterNana D: Kellan's grandmother, also known as Mayor Seraphina DanbyUlan Danby: Kellan's cousin, Nana D's grandsonZach Danby: Nana D's son, Ulan's fatherNatasha Reed Ayrwick: Hampton's wife, Orin's daughter, Isaac's sisterFrancesca Castigliano: Kellan's estranged wife, Emma's mother

Wharton County Residents

Jane O'Malley: Hiram's ex-girlfriendEustacia Paddington: Head of Paddington family, Lilly's and Sam's great auntSam Taft: Lilly's & Brad's brother, Eustacia's grandnephew, dating GabrielLilly Taft: Sam's & Brad's sister, Eustacia's grandnieceKaren & Doug Stoddard: Owners of a restaurant, Cheney's parentsCheney Stoddard: Uber driver, son of Karen & DougFox Terrell: April's estranged husbandOrin Reed: Owner of ReedWell, Isaac and Natasha's fatherIsaac Reed: Orin's son, Natasha's brotherManny Salvado: Pick-Me-Up Diner manager and chef, dating EleanorMaggie Roarke: Head Librarian, dating ConnorHelena Roarke: Maggie's sister, spin instructorHope Lawson: Braxton professor, Hiram's daughterMadam Zenya: Psychic medium (Constance Garibaldi)Bethany: Hampton and Natasha's nannyRita: Forensic accountant

Wharton County Administration

April Montague: Sheriff, dating KellanConnor Hawkins: Detective, Kellan's best friend, dating MaggieHiram Grey: Wharton County Magistrate, Hope's fatherPercy Klein: Hiram's law clerkFinnigan Masters: Attorney, dating LaraLara Bouvier: Reporter, dating FinniganOfficer Flatman: Police officerMyriam Castle: Chair of Communications Dept., Kellan's bossSiobhan Walsh: Braxton Admissions Admin, Unagh's sisterUnagh Walsh: Head nurse, Siobhan's sisterBrad Shope: Nurse, Sam's & Lilly's half-brotherKitty: Nana D's assistantGene: Security guard

Chapter 1

“Grrr! Argh! Blech!” Circling the shopping district's downtown lot for the third time, I begged the parking gods to graciously relinquish an open spot. Everyone and their mother roamed the streets in frenzied pursuit of supplies and their cowering sanity. A vicious blizzard barreled toward Wharton County, and all four towns had flipped their lids in fear of Doomsday's imminent arrival. I insisted Madam Zenya's premonition of the disaster was a hallucination despite worrying she often hit the proverbial bullseye.

“Was that gibberish? Are you speaking English, Kellan?” Lara, a late-forties former supermodel turned news reporter, bellowed through the staticky phone. We'd met the previous year when she moderated Nana D's mayoral debates. After the charming Ms. Bouvier had co-investigated a suspicious death that summer, we'd become good friends and colleagues on our television show, Dark Reality.

I hurled the headset onto the passenger seat, switched my cell to speakerphone, and gripped the steering wheel with such ferocity it permanently imprinted my palms. “Sorry, the hands-free device cut out. It's good you didn't hear my mumbling. They weren't the most flattering words.”

“For heaven's sake, park in the loading zone outside Nutberry Pharmacy. Your grandmother is the mayor. You're dating the sheriff. I doubt you'll get a ticket.” Lara chortled with amusement regarding my current predicament. “Unless they're conspiring to exact revenge on you… ummm… on second thought, you're right. Drive around one more time. I suspect you'll get lucky soon.”

“Yep, Nana D and April rarely get along, but torturing me is the one pastime they share in common.” Upon noticing an empty spot in the far corner, I swiftly cut the steering wheel and expediently navigated toward it. “You were right! I found one.”

It was my second trip in the last hour to the drugstore. My visits hadn't exactly delighted the Nutberry family ever since I'd discovered the crimes one of them committed the previous spring. Murder wasn't known to unite people in blissful harmony. Neither was the threat of inclement weather.

Fresh off a full day of teaching students who prayed for the cancellation of next week's classes, due to the monster-sized winter storm whizzing our way, a dozen last-minute errands still plagued my to-do notes. After I'd ticked them off the list, my fifteen-year-old cousin informed me he'd run out of deodorant. Ulan had become my ward after Uncle Zach extended his African expedition to protect a rare elephant species. Under normal circumstances, notwithstanding the teenage hormones and noxious fumes emanating from his bedroom, I'd wait until tomorrow to buy it. Procrastination wasn't possible this time. Ulan and my seven-year-old daughter, Emma, were leaving for Disney World in the morning.

“Excellent. We need to discuss Hiram's Dark Reality segment. Although he's improved since emerging from the coma last month, his recovery will take months. He's agreed to step down and recommend a temporary replacement judge before the next election,” Lara exclaimed after her impromptu visit to Willow Trees Rehabilitation Center. Judge Grey, her former father-in-law, was recuperating from a haunted hayride accident that'd threatened his life four months ago.

“And Wharton County collectively breathes a sigh of relief. Nana D will dance an Irish jig when the crusty magistrate vacates the bench. Sayonara to the ancient red tape she's trying to eliminate.” Truthfully, the man had no chance of re-election. When news leaked about his conspiracy with a psychiatrist to murder a healthy and sane patient years ago, citizens would revolt. The only reasons for a delayed uproar were his submersion into a coma and inability to perform judicial duties.

Lara raved about Nana D's plans for ridding our county of corruption. “When I got there, some young girl with a pastel green streak in her hair yelled at him about destroying families. Good for her!”

“Judge Grey is a blight on Wharton County. Did he reveal his replacement nominee?”

“Nope, he refused. It honestly looked like the Grim Reaper was knocking at his door. My heart swells for Imogene. My daughter loves her grandfather in spite of all the shameless things he's done.” Lara shared an update on Hiram's condition: alive, more arrogant than usual, and begging for someone to sneak in a bottle of expensive bourbon. “Can you believe that man stashes a special crystal tumbler at the rehab center for his hourly cocktails? Even that persnickety red-haired nurse threatened to clobber him if he barked one more order at her.”

“Given my frustrations at this unbearable moment, Hiram's demands don't sound half bad.”

“You need to relax. Finish your errands, meander home, and drink something potent to squelch your attitude.” Lara suggested we meet for breakfast the following morning at the Pick-Me-Up Diner, my sister's famed cozy eatery, to plot the episode we were filming on the Garibaldi and Grey families.

“Duly noted.” I slammed on the brakes, causing my neck to crash into the seat's headrest and seesaw until I practically collided with the dashboard too. “I don't believe it! Who does he think… of all the moronic things… what the—”

Lara interrupted before I could mutter another stream of obscenities that would prompt Nana D to wash out my mouth with soap. “What's going on? You're back to gibberish again, darling. For a literature and film professor at Braxton, words don't come naturally to you, do they?”

“Some idiot stole my parking spot. He gunned ahead of me.” I rolled down my window, shivered at the frosty gusts pricking my cheeks, and waited for the sneaky louse to exit his tiny red sports car.

A tall, well-built man in his early thirties, the same age as me, stepped out of the convertible and strolled by without a care in the world. I swear he bobbed his head and hummed Michael Jackson's “Bad.” I grunted and stink-eyed the jerk strutting around in dark jeans, a black V-neck tee, and a Nordic ski hat that covered most of his unshaven, structured face. The guy had zero body fat to speak of—how did he walk the streets dressed like we weren't approaching an ice age again? It was the middle of February and colder than the Arctic. No matter how hard I tried—regardless of growing up in this snow globe—I couldn't acclimate to the harsh Pennsylvania winters after living in LA for the last decade.

“Hey, sorry, man. Didn't realize you wanted that spot,” he carelessly called out, shrugging as he sauntered away with a poorly concealed and immature chuckle. “Better luck next time.”

As he turned, a tattoo of a snake—with the longest tongue I'd ever seen—roamed the entire length of his beefy arm, both surprising and confusing me. Although I didn't know everyone in our small town, I was certain he hailed from other parts. “Seriously? You're gonna walk away like that?” While idling in the middle of the lot, I snarled and shifted the car into park, remembering Lara lingered on the phone. “Hold on. That was the last spot, and I'm in a rush.”

“Life's short, dude. You gotta take what you want and never look back.” The obnoxious spot-stealer winked, sped into a jog, and waved at a shorter, dark-skinned man near the corner of Nutberry Pharmacy. He proffered the other man a small package, and in return, the spot-stealer collected a bank envelope he discreetly stuffed inside his back pocket. Had I witnessed a drug deal in progress?

Lara hollered my name. “Let it go. Find another space. See you tomorrow morning if we both survive the impending apocalypse. Ciao, babe.”

“Thanks for the advice!” I swallowed my rising anger and considered my options. It would take five minutes to run into the store, select a stick of deodorant that'd protect us from Ulan's death sweat, and dash back to the car. With the decision unanimously agreed, I parked behind the red sports car, ensuring its delinquent driver couldn't back out, and executed my errand. It was rare I fought fire with fire, but he deserved my wrath, and I would return before him—most likely.

As I approached the counter in our local family-run pharmacy, frowning at the five people in front of me, I held up the deodorant to Tiffany Nutberry. I gestured something that volunteered I was in a hurry or had gotten my tongue stuck to an icy pole, then begged her to add it to my tab. My brother's former college gal pal nodded and focused on her next customer. Sometimes living in a small town where everyone knew your name was a beneficial curse.

I retreated to the front door, scanning the area for the creep who'd stolen the spot, but found no sign of my newest mortal enemy or the stranger he'd surreptitiously met. While I catapulted across the lot, a note on the windshield and an empty parking space garnered my attention. The spot-stealer had driven over the low curb rather than wait for me to return. I anxiously read the message:

Your plan backfired. Mine won't. I know how to get even. I also don't give up easily.

A petulant man would've kicked the tires in frustration. An intelligent guy would've shaken it off and escaped without a colossal tantrum. Judging by the throbbing in my foot when I pressed the gas pedal to dart away from the vacant space, my level of maturity sputtered in a non-ideal direction.

It had been a day. If I could've returned it for a refund or shoplifted a new one from a discount rack, I'd have been better off. While driving to Danby Landing, Nana D's organic orchard and farm, I conjured ways to avenge the spot-stealer and heeded the tail end of a regional weather report—or desperate warning that we'd soon march to a painful death. I couldn't decipher his bleak tone.

“To recap for those who missed my detailed forecast, temperatures will drop like atom bombs overnight into the teens. By afternoon, snow flurries will descend on us poor, unfortunate souls. Although the weekend will sprinkle only a trifle of snow, be cognizant of fierce and major precipitation by Sunday evening when you will become unavoidably trapped—housebound for days like suffering prisoners. Some are nicknaming it the blizzard of the century, and one thing's for sure, folks… don't leave your pets and shoes outside this weekend. By Monday, we will greet three feet of snow with another six inches dropped on us by dinnertime. No one wants to lose a pinky toe to frostbite or visit the local taxidermist.”

I switched the channel and snorted at the static blasting through the speakers. “It's a good thing my parents and the kids are leaving on vacation.” Though I spoke to myself, it was better than listening to the weather forecast. I'd wanted to escape with them on the trip, but Braxton's Spring Break wasn't until the following week. I couldn't abandon my job. My parents were doing me a favor by watching the kids, which allowed me extra time to address the premier episode of Dark Reality with Lara. We needed to focus all our spare energy on preparing for the thrilling series revitalization.

I'd also spend quality time with April. Our lack of intimacy had descended into sore subject territory. Although we'd shared a romantic Valentine's Day earlier that week, a burst pipe in the sheriff's office had slashed our time shorter than a matchstick. The kids were always a priority. And ever since she'd revealed that a divorce from her husband had not formally taken place years ago, we'd been tracing the mysterious man's whereabouts to resolve the itty-bitty complication.

During April's and my first official date on my birthday last Halloween, Madam Zenya interrupted to warn us she foresaw danger imminently hurtling in our direction. Months had passed without Beelzebub's fireballs singing us, but she'd also suggested it would prevail during a winter blizzard. Could the approaching storm be what she'd hinted about?

That night, April had also given me a birthday present—a fake certificate awarding me an honorary degree in meddling and nuisance studies. The gift came with a plastic badge she brazenly directed to affix to my lips whenever I yearned to solve murders. Irony prompted half the town to refer to me as The Unlikely Death Locator. I'd somehow innocently involved myself in five of her murder investigations in the last year, and despite the frequent trouble it caused, we'd still developed a fiery attraction to one another. Unfortunately, my separation from a not-so-dead mobster wife, Francesca Castigliano, had just begun, and April's split from her globetrotting not-so-divorced husband, Fox Terrell, was an unexpected new obstacle. Quite a pair of hot messes, weren't we?

As I drove past the Danby Landing cottage, my brother and his boyfriend zoomed down the path on his motorcycle. Of all the idiotic things to do given the threat of a snowstorm, Gabriel would be the one knucklehead to risk his and Sam's lives on a bike. I hastily waved through the window, knowing we'd scheduled dinner for Sunday, unless the looming winter disaster rendered that impossible. I'd decided to introduce my girlfriend to my family in a non-official capacity by testing the waters with Gabriel. His sarcasm and humor were on par with mine. It would be easy to relax in a group setting while Sam was on a break from graduate school. They'd been dating for six months even though the long-distance had occasionally caused a few issues cum calamities. Gabriel could be quite an obnoxious handful.

Ulan greeted me at the door, his hands twitching like he'd consumed a dozen cups of radioactive java. Despite the frozen tundra we lived in, he'd shaved off all his hair to support a friend with cancer. His bald, oval-shaped head and chocolate-brown puppy dog eyes encouraged all the girls to fawn over him at school. “Did you get my deodorant? Grandpa is picking us up in an hour. I haven't packed. What do I need for Orlando in February? I should get to the gym. Maybe some speedos to impress the bikini-clad chiquitas, right?” He and Emma planned to sleep at my parents' monstrous log cabin home, affectionately known as the Royal Chic-Shack, to shorten the airport trip in the morning.

“No speedos. Despite Gabriel's obsession, men are never supposed to wear them.” I tossed two bags at him and dropped the rest on the floor. Our puppy, who rapidly approached one-year-old, fearlessly stuck his nose in the nearest bag, filched a pair of sandals, and scampered down the hall. I had no energy to run after Baxter. “Emma! Get your flip-flops back before your dog eats them, please!” Baxter had a habit of consuming fabric and rubber, which led to an unbelievably awkward and odorous situation upon exiting his system.

With nodding heads, Emma and Nana D strolled into the room and simultaneously teased, “Rough day?” Not only did they speak similarly, but Nana D had convinced Emma to swap her trademark pigtails for a single braid like she wore. Reducing their time together was paramount before I suffered from two lovable but relentless bosses jumping on my back. I'd say three if my real boss, Dr. Myriam Castle, were lovable, but that'd be more shocking than discovering the world was round and not flat.

We sorted through the bags, packed for their trip, and wolfed down scrumptious leftovers for dinner. Nana D had defrosted a droolworthy lasagna the previous night. The farmhouse smelled like an Italian restaurant during the Feast of San Gennaro. Creamy parmesan and pecorino cheeses. Perfect al dente pasta. Mouthwatering meat sauce. Bread that could make you cry tears of joy.

After a full day at the mayor's office, Nana D wasn't in the mood to prepare a complicated meal, as she reminded me earlier when I beseeched her to pick up the kids. She'd let her chauffeur—a perk as the head of our county—take off for the weekend. Given the ominous Nor'easter, driving on her own thrilled her as much as enduring a root canal in a dirty, underground clinic.

“Come on, Emma, let's take Baxter for his final walk tonight,” Ulan ordered as he carried their empty plates into the kitchen. “Your dad looks like he's run out of patience again. Veins are pulsing.”

“He's just cranky.” Emma cocked her head sideways, narrowing her hazel-green eyes at me. They'd been darker when she was younger but changed colors to match her personality—spunky, strong-willed, and generous. “Ulan says you're sad we're leaving. Right, Daddy?” She hopped on my lap and kissed my nose. “I will miss you this much,” she squealed, spreading her arms broadly.

Before Emma tottered off the chair from stretching beyond her limit, I lowered her to the plush carpet. “Exactly. You better behave for Grandma and Grandpa in Disney World. If I get any negative reports on either of you, severe punishments will rain from the sky. I'm talking no food for a week. You'll wear each other's clothes to school. Baxter gets all your Christmas presents until you turn eighteen.”

“You wouldn't dare. Ulan!” Emma puffed and raced down the hallway. “He's gone loco again!”

“Ugh! I love those two so much,” I muttered to Nana D, shuffling in my seat. “Ulan's only been with us for six months, but he's become a son to me in so many ways.”

Nana D tapped her fingers on Grandpop's custom wood table, deep in thought before replying. “I haven't heard from Zachary. He's supposed to check in before Ulan leaves for Disney World.”

“You know Uncle Zach. He loves his son, but his career is his passion. Just like Hampton.”

“Your brother is a different story. Have you figured out what's going on with that embezzlement scheme at ReedWell Corporation?” Nana D held up a hand when I started to clear the table. “Sit a bit. Let's talk. I'm worried about my boys, Kellan.”

My older brother Hampton had moved back to Pennsylvania the previous fall once his oil tycoon father-in-law, Orin Reed, drilled a new well near the Betscha mines. Hampton was married to Orin's daughter, Natasha, and they had four children under the age of seven. Hampton was an abrasive, ruthless, and judgmental attorney, but Orin Reed admired those qualities in a man. He'd groomed Hampton to take over the family business, ReedWell, since his daughter wasn't interested and his son, Isaac, wasn't qualified for a multitude of reasons.

“Hampton was evasive about the financial issues. I listened to his concerns, but there's nothing we can do.” I reminded Nana D what we'd learned to date. ReedWell's finance team had processed five obscure transactions from the corporate accounts, cutting checks to an unknown company for vague projects. No master services agreements or contracts with the business were on file. Clueless about what ReedWell had received for the services, Hampton claimed to have foolishly signed off on the invoices during a crisis. The money evaporated into a giant black hole. “The last time Hampton talked to Orin, he'd arrived in Pennsylvania and demanded ReedWell hire an outside accountant to sort it out.”

“Pish! I spoke with Hampton today. Your brother met with the calculating yet oddly debonair Orin Reed, and it didn't go hunky-dory. His father-in-law accused him of grand larceny and threatened to remove him from ReedWell if he couldn't retrieve the money by tomorrow.” Nana D tut-tutted and waggled her index finger as if she summoned a scheme of her own.

I'd often seen that look on her face, and it always led to an epic disaster. “Stay out of it, Nana D. The Hampster is a big boy, and he came to me for help twice. If he needs me to conduct further research, he has to grant me access to their systems. Let's talk about the impending storm instead.”

Nana D stuck out her tongue, then carried her plate into the kitchen. “I'll stay out of it if you promise to ignore any future murder investigations. How's that for a deal, brilliant one?”

“There won't be any more murders. Braxton's been punished enough.” I guffawed when Nana D bristled in disagreement. “Does this storm mean Madam Zenya's premonition might come true?”

“The one where she said, and I am quoting her words according to what you told me… a life-altering, disastrous blizzard will plague Wharton County this winter. It'll be unbelievably horrendous. There will be more death, and the past and the future will collide for the Danby and Ayrwick families. It will be tragic, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.” She flicked her hand at me and lollygagged toward the counter to rinse the dishes. “What a crock of—”

“Watch it, Nana D. Emma is hovering in the hallway.” I followed my hypocritical grandmother into the kitchen and rested my head on her shoulder, which wasn't easy given she stood five-foot-tall and hunched over the sink like a leprechaun. “Yep, that's the one. Worried for our family?”

She turned off the faucet and dried her hands. “I'm not concerned, but I've been meaning to—”

My phone blasted the theme from Cops, April's signature ringtone. “Hold that thought, please.” I stepped into the living room and answered the call, certain Nana D whispered in the distance.

“Kellan and April sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes….” Nana D activated the oven's overhead vent, drowning out the rest of her hilarious song and dance routine.

“Hello… been thinking about you. Still on for a drink when I get home?” We hadn't officially had a sleepover yet, mostly since her much-younger brother was living with her until he left for college that summer, and I had two impressionable kids at my place. Also, we didn't want to leap too hastily into unchartered territory and implode like a submarine tank.

“You know I wish I could be there.” Her uncannily hesitant tone didn't bode well for my future.

“What happened?” I attempted to curb my whine, but it flooded out the gates like a tidal wave. The day would end just as it had started—at the bottom of a barrel without a drop left to drink.

“Fox showed up. It's taken three months to track him down. I can't ignore this chance to force him to sign the divorce agreement. Let me deal with this first, and then we can move forward. You know I… I lo—” April stopped speaking to me on the phone but continued talking in the background.

“What's going on?” I pulled the device away from my ear in confusion. “Did you say—”

“Kellan, I gotta go. Fox jumped ship already. I'll call you soon.”

I stared in disbelief at the checkerboard pattern on Nana D's kitchen wall. Suddenly disoriented, my throat began to constrict. Was April about to say she loved me? Then it hit me. Her aloof husband was here. Why was I not running out the door? I needed to meet him myself. Oh right, I had to get Emma and Ulan ready for their Disney World trip. Everyone was against me today.

Nana D snapped her fingers an inch from my nose. A trance had trapped me in a state of denial or stupidity—often the same in my case. “Come here, brilliant one. It looks like you could use a hug.”

* * *

On Saturday morning, Emma, Ulan, and my parents were en route to Orlando. The weatherman had been correct. I awoke to a temperature somewhere between the kids' ages. If I believed in superstitions, I would've recognized it as a sign to move back to LA. It took ten minutes to defrost the SUV's windows and sober up from the blazing icicle tears before I could meet my buddy Connor at the gym.

After a grueling bicep and chest workout, we hit the showers. As usual, I finished before him and waited in the lobby of Grey Sports Complex, the Braxton fitness center built from donations charitably provided by Hiram Grey and his family. If it wasn't the only place with adequate equipment in town, I would've exercised elsewhere. As I dilly-dallied near the deafening and spacious juice bar, our friends Maggie Roarke and Jane O'Malley tumbled into the meticulous and bright lobby.

Maggie, the adorable, stereotypical girl-next-door, always watched my back. Her porcelain skin shined brighter than the snowy sky. Jane, a few years younger, was shier than a wallflower but had gone through a harrowing ordeal. While Jane had ended a catastrophic relationship with the much older Judge Hiram Grey, Maggie and Connor were enthusiastically dating for a solid chunk of the last year.

“Got your snowshoes on?” Maggie asked, elbowing Jane and stripping off a pair of heavily insulated gloves. “I couldn't feel my face in that frosty mess outside. But you don't skip Jazzercise class!”

“It's the kind of day where someone could freeze to death,” Jane quipped, then gasped. “Never mind. I didn't mean to be so dismal. The danger of hazardous weather scares me.” As she removed her coat, a diamond bracelet fell to the floor. Jane flinched and dove in agitated pursuit of her possession.

“I'll get it.” While retrieving the obviously posh, glimmering jewelry, I wondered how Jane could afford something so luxurious. She lived on a modest teacher's salary and struggled to pay her rent.

“Give that back.” Jane tore it from my hands, a flash of anger on her cheeks. “Sorry, it's… a valuable family heirloom. I'd hate to lose it. Anyway, what will you do while Emma and Ulan are away?”

“Sure, no problem.” Ignoring Jane's odd reaction and excessive outburst, I crossed my arms and rested on a nearby bench. “April will ensure I'm occupied. I doubt the storm will be that harsh.”

Maggie giggled as she scanned her card at the empty front desk. “It's been a while since you've suffered through one of Wharton County's whiteouts. Don't underestimate how tricky they can be. The WCLN weatherman updated his warning from eight to nine snowmen.”

Two things were common knowledge in these parts. One, we measured snowstorms by tallying the scale of snowmen. A single snowman indicated a smattering of flurries. Ten snowmen meant a woolly mammoth ventured down the Wharton Mountains to seek warmth from the townspeople. The other thing we knew for certain, WCLN's weatherman was as senile as a naked dementia patient riding an upside-down Ferris wheel in the dark. He'd also never once read the weather charts properly.

After both ladies dashed to the locker room, Connor paraded around the lobby with a forlorn pout and scowled every time he glanced out the window. “I'm so cold I'm gonna need to buy a second pair of thermal long johns. Just listened to the WCLN report. Nine snowmen! Did you hear?”

I dipped my head in shame. “You sure it ain't nine and a half? I felt the temperature drop just now as you pranced in here, princess.” For added effect, I grasped my noggin and shivered like Nana D when she swallowed an ice cream sundae too quickly. “Oh wait, now it's ten snowmen. There's Wally Woolly riding the ski lift!”

“Dude, your sarcasm truly knows no bounds.” Connor slapped my back like I was an irritating fly, then pushed me out the door. “Any message you want me to deliver to your extra special girlfriend?” As a detective in the Wharton County Sheriff's Office who reported to April, he teased me all the time.

“No, she's on Santa's naughty list. We were supposed to chat last night, but I never got a call. I'm debating whether to contact her or wait it out.” I was a tad peeved at her for failing to update me post that weird interruption when her husband showed up, but I also trusted her. There was a reason she had communicated nothing else in the last eleven hours, eight minutes, and three seconds.

Upon entering the parking lot, Connor waggled his eyebrows and remotely unlocked his truck. “She left in a hurry yesterday, chasing some guy I've never seen before. I'm sure she'll call.” He forcefully wiped a snowflake off his nose, scooted to his vehicle, and danced awkwardly on his tippy toes while lifting the door handle. “Yep, the end of the world has definitely arrived. Better jet to work.”

I wobbled my head in disbelief at how a tiny drop of water had caused such an incomprehensible reaction on a grown man the size of a brick house. Several inches taller and wider than me—from working out and eating tons of protein—my South African and Caribbean best friend was not someone you messed with, if you valued your life. “You're a sorry excuse for a man, Detective Connor Hawkins. Afraid of a little snow. Who would've thought—”

Connor slammed his truck door in my face, flipped me two birds, and laughed so raucously I heard him through the window. After he drove away, my phone chirped. As the wind whipped by like a runaway train, I hopped in my frigid SUV, contemplating why no one had bought me an automatic car starter for Christmas. Thinking the bird noise had delivered an apology text from Connor or April had begged me to come over for some much-desired canoodling, I promptly scanned the device.

I was dead wrong. It was from someone else. Someone I preferred not to hear from again this soon. Especially not with such a horrifying message. A pest who had a habit of crashing my party with the universe's darkest pile of pity and gloomiest end-of-the-world threats. Balderdash!

Madam Z: I've had another premonition, and it's far more sinister than what I said last time. I'm so sorry about your grandmother. We need to have an urgent conversation about her calamitous future.

Chapter 2

After that doozy of a text, I called Constance to discuss her prediction. Once learning her real identity, I'd been reticent to refer to her as Madam Zenya, the famed seer of all things evil. For all her kookiness and burdens, Constance was a sharp and kind woman. I was grateful she hadn't fought my unscrupulous purchase of her family home, which incidentally, wasn't my fault.

I hadn't known Hiram Grey stole it from the Garibaldi family fifty years ago, claiming both Constance and her sister, Prudence, had died and he was the beneficiary. When Constance resurfaced and shared the sordid tale of Hiram's misdeeds, we worked out a compromise for me to keep her house. After much deliberation, rather than refer to it as The Old Grey Place, we settled on the name Garzenwyck as an ode to all three, honoring the Garibaldi and Ayrwick families and Madam Zenya's generosity. When I informally polled all my friends and family, they agreed this was the ideal name.

Constance had stockpiled enough money in other avenues of her life, and I'd promised to look out for her new family. She'd gained a nephew, Damien, and a grandniece, Imogene—Lara's daughter—during Halloween. Since Constance was approaching eighty and suffering from declining health, she fussed about her relations. Kellan Ayrwick, gentleman extraordinaire, to the rescue!

Constance could only promise me the storm would trap Nana D somewhere cold and dark. If we didn't locate her in time, she'd lose the battle for survival in the blizzard's wake. Initially, alarm signals detonated like firecrackers. Then I realized we had full control of the situation. As long as Nana D remained at home, and Gabriel hovered in the cottage next door, she'd be as fit as a fiddle. I'd also check on her daily, even sleep at Danby Landing, thus thwarting the troublesome prognostication.

Once we hung up, I mustered the strength to survey the count of students who'd signed up for my upcoming summer courses. Enrollment dropped significantly lower than normal and dismayed me. I'd peeped every three hours in anticipation of upbeat improvements. There were none. After pocketing the mobile phone, I forced myself to exit the SUV. Upon tracing dry and cracked lips, my foggy breath lingered in the air as if to beg me for permission to hide back inside. My toes permanently curled into hooks from the chilling bite of a drafty wind. Its formidable death whistle nearly broke my eardrums.

I met Lara at the Pick-Me-Up Diner to discuss our Dark Reality segment on Hiram Grey. While plotting the major arcs and commercial breaks, we shared scrambled eggs and a stack of buttermilk pancakes because I needed a heavy dose of carbs to deal with the crazy, weather-fearing townspeople and she could eat anything without gaining an ounce.

“There's a name for people like you, but this gentleman won't say it aloud.” I swiped the check, adamant it was my turn. “You covered the last one. Besides, if the network compensates you with such an enormous salary that you insist on paying for every meal, I need to renegotiate my contract.”

Lara bundled up in a giant furry parka, pecked my still semi-frozen cheek, and sneered like a villain. “I'm worth every penny. Time to clear out of this storm's path. I suggest you do the same. We're gonna lose power for days according to the WCLN weatherman, you know. Nine snowmen!”

I rolled my eyes with massive exaggeration, then back again because it just felt like the right thing to do. “You work with the clown. Shouldn't you know he's never correct?”

“Even a broken clock gets the time right twice a day, Kellan.” Lara waved two gloved hands in my direction and vanished from the diner in a flutter.

I snatched some cash from my wallet and ambled to the counter to settle the bill.

Halfway there, Eustacia Paddington poked my lower abdomen with the pointy end of her cane. “Didn't you see me gesturing at you, Kellan? I know you're as blind as a bat even with those goggles you call glasses, but for criminy sakes. Get with it, boy wonder.” Eustacia, one of Nana D's closest friends and main enemies—it all depended on the time of day and who'd last won at Bingo—resembled Barney the Dinosaur this freezing morning. She donned an oddly shaped tracksuit that highlighted a paunchy belly and thin, frail arms destined to snap off at the slightest amount of pressure.

“Good morning, Eustacia. It never fails to astound me how different you appear every time we encounter one another.” I offered a middle-of-the-road statement that could be taken as a compliment or an insult, depending on your preferred interpretation. The air smelled faintly dirty, like a damp closet.

“Why, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. You've flattered this slightly older babe. Much obliged.” Eustacia pulled back her cane, then stomped it on the floor. It had been pressing on my bladder, keen to cause a considerable disaster in the middle of the Pick-Me-Up Diner. “Now, let's get back to business. Where is that intolerable grandmother of yours?”

I guessed they were frenemies at current count. “Working, I believe.”

The seventy-something spinster heading up the Paddington family stabbed a bony digit into my chest. A virulent mineral ice odor wafted through the air, encircling us in a cloud of hell. “Contact her. I want her to stay with me during the storm. The nitwit returned none of my four calls this morning.”

The clock read ten. Four calls already? “Sure, one minute.” I inched back, gingerly rubbing my chest and breathing fresh air. Either my workout was incredibly fierce, or she'd grown knives for fingers.

While the phone rang, Eustacia frowned. “Don't be silly. I didn't poke you that hard, baby.”

Nana D didn't answer her cell phone. Outside in the parking lot, feathery snow-dusted trees and car hoods. Trucks dropped piles of sandy ice melt. “Let me try her assistant.” I smiled with gritted teeth and turned around to witness Eleanor sheepishly covering her mouth and nose. Had she hoped to prevent herself from laughing aloud or inhaling the repugnant combination of menthol and mothballs?

“Shut up!” I rotated one-hundred-and-eighty degrees back to Eustacia, then greeted Nana D's assistant. Two minutes later, after listening to the infamous Kitty flip through a datebook and click ten billion keys on the keyboard—Nana D insisted on dual record-keeping for her calendar—I hung up.

“Well?” Eustacia huffed, leaned against the counter, took my change from the bill I'd just paid, and dropped it in the donation jar for a local homeless shelter. “You don't need the money. They do.”

“Nana D's assistant said she took off for the weekend. Since this whopper of a storm will worsen by Monday, and she'll be super busy next week, our mayor wanted to bucket some rest and relaxation today and tomorrow.” I wasn't sure what that meant, but Kitty had no idea where my grandmother traipsed off to. Nor was Nana D answering the cell phone when the nutty assistant rang her.

“What am I supposed to do with that nonsense of a reply? Precisely what a useless man would utter.” As Eustacia complained, her dentures slipped, and in trying to reseat them, they tumbled out of her mouth. “Oh Lord, not again! Catch them, Kellan, before they hit the dirty floor.”

“We just mopped!” Eleanor pushed her way toward us. In her attempt to capture the projectile teeth, she slipped on something wet and slid into Eustacia. My sister kicked the cane out of Eustacia's hands and knocked the woman's dentures further into the air above us. Eustacia fell toward me like a scarecrow leaping off a wooden pole burning furiously in a fire pit. I prevented the elderly woman from hitting the ground, but as I looked up to locate the flying marvels of dentistry, the set of teeth smacked me in the forehead and careened downward toward Eleanor.

“Got them!” Eleanor shouted, balancing herself to prevent our trio from splattering on the floor.

A group of patrons clapped in astonishment of our marvelous escapade as if we'd performed a show for their benefit. Siobhan Walsh was the only person I recognized. My former department admin stood near another flaming redhead, laughing and nodding. I caught my reflection in the mirrored wall behind them, containing any response until I could determine if a piece of chewed food was stuck to my forehead or if Eustacia's sharp incisors had sliced open my flesh. The hostess handed me a napkin, and after wiping myself clean, I whispered a silent prayer of gratitude it was only a diced tomato.

“I'll try to reach her later. Can't you stay with family?” I thought of her grandnephew, Sam Taft, my brother's boyfriend who was coincidently home for a few days. If I had to suffer through this hornet's nest with Eustacia, my brother Gabriel could take one for the family too.

“As if. Everyone's busy with their own priorities. Jennifer and Arthur are loony gaga over their kid. You know, not all infants are cute. I don't know why people tell silly lies.” Eustacia smiled facetiously, placed her teeth back inside her quivering mouth, and shook her head and jaw to situate them. “Ophelia and Dana are on some excursion in Europe. Timothy and your Aunt Deirdre are waiting for their new miracle test-tube baby to arrive any day now. What is this world coming to?”

“Isn't Lilly around?” Eleanor tried not to laugh as the woman struggled to adjust her dentures.

Eustacia leaned toward the mirror to fix the issue. “That girl is as useless as a pair of chopsticks scooping pebbles in a bowl of soup while riding a scooter on a high wire. Lilly's so desperate for money, she's pulled out all the stops to convince me to empty her trust. What childish problems she's causing!”

I wasn't a fan of Lilly Taft, her grandniece, after our run-in the previous year when the girl's grandmother had died at a theater performance. Eustacia had been left in charge of all the family money and wouldn't grant Lilly her inheritance until she behaved in a more polished and presentable manner. “Yep, I'll see what I can do.” With a great aunt like Eustacia, how would Lilly learn?