The Mayor's Final Roast: An Emma Carter Cozy Mystery by Ivy Miller

Author:Ivy Miller [Miller, Ivy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

12

TANGLED MOTIVES

The fact that someone is watching me is more than just a coincidence; it’s a regular occurrence. At night, I can feel eyes on me; during the day, there’s a merciless presence that seems to linger; even when I’m at home, it feels like someone is sharpening a knife and watching me—it’s threatening.

I’m afraid that by the time this is over and we’ve solved the case, I might be more paranoid than I was before. I study my surroundings even when there’s nothing to be afraid of. I flinch at the smallest sounds, and I’m easily startled these days.

This behavior—always being on edge—has also greatly affected my business. Parents don’t want their kids coming into my bookshop because they feel like I’m a target and that something bad could happen to me at any time. They don’t want their kids to become collateral damage, and I wouldn’t either.

Truth be told, I’m not completely safe either. Even I feel like something bad could happen to me at any moment; that’s why I prefer to be around Jake and Chewie. But how much can they handle? They have their own lives. I can’t just disrupt that because I’m obsessed with solving a case.

When this started, I was determined to save Greg. I wanted him to walk free because no one deserves a wrongful conviction. However, with the way everything’s unfolded, I’ve been more curious than empathetic. I want to solve this mystery because it’s one I can’t solve, one that has no right answers.

But what about Greg? What if I get so caught up in this mystery that a life is ruined because of it?

Questions like these haunt me. They crawl up to my brain and captivate the remainder of my consciousness, my sanity.

I’m interrupted from my spiraling thoughts by the sound of Jake’s car pulling up outside. He honks twice—a signal he’s been using lately when I don’t respond to his texts fast enough. I grab my coat and step outside.

“You look terrible,” Jake says as I climb into the passenger seat.

“Thanks,” I blurt out, buckling in.

“Sorry,” he says, giving me a sideways glance. “I just mean you look . . . tired. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“You’re not exactly winning any beauty contests yourself,” I shoot back, and he chuckles.

As we drive, the conversation shifts to the suspects. We’ve gone over this list so many times it feels like we’re running in circles.

“Look at Marian,” I start, leaning back in my seat. “She had everything to gain—money, control, freedom from a husband who clearly wasn’t renowned for his decency.”

“And don’t forget her demeanor,” Jake adds. “She’s cold, calculating. But is she capable of murder?”

“Capable? Yes. Willing? That’s the real question,” I reply.

Jake nods as he turns down a quiet side street. “Then there’s Samantha. Her behavior seems odd. She was crying a lot at the funeral—more than most employees would for their boss. There has to be something else there.”

“She’s tied to the ledgers,” I remind him. “And those ledgers could be the key to everything.

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