Sweet Revenge (Dewberry Farm Mysteries Book 7) by Karen MacInerney

Author:Karen MacInerney [MacInerney, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Whale Press
Published: 2020-10-30T06:00:00+00:00

It was a short drive to downtown Buttercup. As always, I relished the views of rolling farmland and quaint historic houses interspersed with cattle and swathes of wildflowers, as well as the transition to the town's historic square, which featured the white-painted courthouse snugged into the town square's green. It was ringed by quaint buildings housing antique stores, bed and breakfasts, the Enchanted Florist, with pots of bright red and coral geraniums in front of the short picket fence, and the Red & White Grocery, which still featured a few lanky tomato plants for late gardeners. I stopped by and picked up a few to replace the plants the goats had pulled up, then got back into my truck and drove past the Blue Onion cafe, which was buzzing with townspeople hungry for lunch and gossip. A small line had formed outside the restaurant, and I decided to stop by after I had a chat with Serafine.

The sheriff's department was in a small bungalow a couple of blocks off the main square, and there was plenty of parking on the tree-lined street. I pulled under a broad-leafed sycamore tree, and retrieved the small Tupperware container of honey muffins and two jars of honey peach butter from the passenger seat. To my relief, Opal was at the front desk of the sheriff's office. Her eyes lit up when she saw me... and the jars of peach honey butter.

"I was wondering when I'd see you," she said as I proffered a jar of last night's efforts. "How are things down at Dewberry Farm?"

"Well, things have been better. I don't know if Deputy Garcia told you about the surprise visitor I had last night?"

"Surprise visitor?'

"Yeah. Someone whacked me in the head with a rock and left a note on my back door... pinned down with a knife." I touched the swelling on temple.

"Oof," she said. "That looks bad. Did you get it checked out?

"Tobias looked at it for me," I told her. "How's Serafine doing?"

"Well," Opal said, adjusting her glasses, "I brought her a new batch of magazines today, but she doesn't seem to like Southern Living as much as I do."

I realized I had left one of Cee Cee James's most recent mysteries in my bag; I hadn't finished it yet, but Serafine needed it more than I did. I fished around and pulled out a slightly dog-eared paperback. "Mind if I drop this off with her, along with some muffins and a jar of peach honey butter?"

"As long as you didn't slip a file into it," she said. "Hang on a second." She reached under the desk and pulled out an enormous metal detector, the kind you usually see being carried by beachcombers.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Unfortunately not," she said. "Rooster picked this up at a pawn shop a couple months back, and now it's the official security device." She turned it on and ran it over the Tupperware of muffins and the paperback. "All good," she said.

"What's up with Rooster, anyway?" I asked.

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