Egg Drop Dead Page 27

Without hesitating, Suzanne reached down and turned the key that Doogie had left in the ignition. She haphazardly flipped a couple of switches on the dashboard and the siren instantaneously poured out a shrill blat—bwaaa, bwaaa, bwaaa.

  Alarmed by the noise, Lansky flattened himself against the barn. At almost the same time, Doogie came steaming out the main entrance, shotgun on his shoulder, fully cognizant that he was being warned.

  Suzanne opened the car door a crack. “Watch out!” she cried. “He’s got a . . .”

  That’s when it all went kerpow crazy!

  A bullet struck the front fender of the cruiser, startling Suzanne and sending a surprised Doogie diving for the dirt.

  Suzanne’s brain registered the impact with utter shock. A bullet? Lansky had fired at her? Seriously?

  She peeped out the window, her heart beating inside her chest like a wounded dove. And there was Lansky, clutching his shotgun as he negotiated a quick, shuffling side step, ducking and spinning away from the barn. The barrel of his gun was bouncing like crazy as he headed directly toward her!

  What to do?

  Suzanne did the only thing she could do. With lightning speed, she slid into the driver’s seat and put the car in gear. Lights flashing and siren screaming now, she steered directly at Lansky, the cruiser bucking and swaying as it flew over uneven ground.

  Lansky saw her coming and tried to leap out of the way.

  No problem—Suzanne cut the car in Lansky’s direction, fully intending to clip him hard and send him sprawling in the dirt. Instead, he spun away at the last second and swung the barrel of his shotgun around until it was aimed directly at her.

  Holy shit!

  Suzanne cranked the wheel hard right again, ducked down, and hit the gas. The car surged forward with all the fury of an Abrams tank unleashed. The reinforced front bumper—practically a cowcatcher—clipped Lansky at hip level and tossed him high into the air.

  As her headlights caught Lansky in mid-tumble, Suzanne could actually see shock and pain register on his face. And then Lansky twisted in midair, almost in slow motion, and the shotgun bucked hard in his hands.

  Boom!

  Two feet of yellow flame belched from the end of the barrel. And then, like a scene out of a Vin Diesel movie, the nearby barn exploded in a quick succession of bursts. One side of the barn blew out, followed by an enormous explosion of orange and yellow flames. There was another rumble, like a freight train gathering speed, and then a fireball shot up and through the roof. It climbed three, almost four stories high, twisting and churning like the proverbial firestorm that had turned Lot’s wife to salt. Chunks of flaming wood rained down upon the cruiser. Suzanne watched in astonishment as the explosion tossed Lansky ass over teakettle for a second time and blew the shotgun clean out of his hands.

  Five seconds later, Driscoll was on top of Lansky, grappling with him, snarling orders, flipping him onto his stomach. Lansky wiggled and bucked, but Driscoll hastily subdued him. He pulled the man’s hands behind his back and snapped on a pair of handcuffs. Then Doogie was yanking open the car door, screaming at Suzanne, “What did you do! What did you do!”

  Suzanne blinked, as if waking up from a horribly vivid dream. “What do you mean?” she screamed back. “What are you talking about?”

  Doogie was hopping up and down in a fit of excitement. “The barn. How did you set it on fire?”

  Suzanne shook her head. “Lansky’s shotgun went off. I think he shot his own barn.”

  Doogie stopped dancing. “He exploded his own meth lab?”

  “When I hit him with the cruiser, he must have pulled the trigger. But the shot went wild. He must have hit something critical. Chemicals, I guess.”

  “Sweet dogs.” Doogie swept his hat off his head in a show of victory. “Now that’s what I call poetic justice.”

  CHAPTER 32

  WHEN they got back to the Cackleberry Club, the party had long since ended. Guests had departed, candles guttered inside pumpkins, pumpkin grins had slipped sideways. Still, Suzanne’s cadre of Cackleberry Club insiders were waiting there. Dying to hear what happened.

  Doogie related the whole exciting scenario as Petra, Toni, Sam, Junior, and Joey stood there with their collective mouths hanging open. He detailed the chase to Lansky’s farm, sneaking into the barn, Suzanne’s ramming Lansky with his cruiser, the shot going wild, and the barn exploding.

  “And then the ambulance and backup finally arrived,” Driscoll added.

  “Holy smokes,” Sam said. “That really happened?”

  “It sounds like a movie,” Petra said.

  “It kind of was,” Suzanne said. “You could have filmed the whole thing frame by frame and ended up with an incredibly exciting action sequence.”

  “And Todd Lansky, the real killer, was hiding in plain sight all along,” Toni said. “While we were sneaking suspicious glances at Claudia and Noah and Byron Wolf and that horse guy, Elder.”

  Petra reached over and embraced Suzanne. “We were all so worried about you.” She grabbed Deputy Driscoll and gave him a hug, too. “You, too, dear heart!”

  Doogie stood there, looking askance. “What about me?”

  Petra waved a hand. “Oh poop, you’re just fine, Sheriff. You’ve probably been in more shootouts, ambushes, and car chases than Smokey and the Bandit and the Dukes of Hazzard put together.”

  Her words gave Doogie pause. “You really think so?” A silly grin spread across his broad face. He was pleased and bolstered by her words. “I like that.” He let loose a hearty chuckle. “I certainly do.”

  “Wish I could have been in on the action,” Junior grumped.

  “Over my dead body,” Toni said.

  “Say, is there any food left?” Doogie asked. “’Cause we sure worked up a ferocious appetite.”

  “I’m sorry to say that the bratwurst and chicken wings are all gone,” Petra said. “But there’s cake.”

  Doogie brightened. “Cake?”

  “Come on inside and sit down,” Petra said. “Tell us some more!”

  They all trooped into the Cackleberry Club, Junior stumping along and leading the way, waving his crutch like a bandleader with a marching baton.

  Sam caught Suzanne’s arm on the way in and pulled her aside.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked. “I mean, really okay?”

  Suzanne gave a regretful smile. “I am fine, Sam. I’m just so sorry I took off like that. I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “More like terrified me,” he said. “You’re crazy and impulsive and a little too reckless for your own good.” When worry and unease puckered Suzanne’s face, he added, “But I wouldn’t trade your wild ways for anything.” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

  “Do you still want to marry me?” Suzanne asked in a muffled voice.

  “Of course I do,” Sam said. He was planting tiny kisses on her forehead, her ears, her eyebrows . . .

  “Even though I might come with a little baggage?”

  Sam stopped and peered at her. “You’re going to buy those horses, aren’t you?”

  She took a step back from him. “Yes I am.”

  “How much money do you think you’ll need?”

  “About eight hundred dollars. I’m thinking now that I’ll borrow half from the Cackleberry Club’s account and get a cash advance on the other four hundred. You know, put it on my Visa card.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Sam said.

  Suzanne shook her head. “That’s the thing you don’t seem to understand, Sam. I do have to do this. It’s important to me that I save those horses.”

  “No, sweetheart,” Sam said. “That’s not what I meant. I meant to say I’ll give you the money. The eight hundred dollars for Elder’s horses and whatever you need for Mike’s horses.”

  “What?” Suzanne said in a whispe
r. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Her voice caught in her throat as she gazed at him guardedly. “What?”

  “I said I’ll give you the . . .”

  Suzanne waved a hand frantically in front of Sam’s face. “No, no, I heard that part just fine. I guess what I meant to ask was why? Why would you do that?”

  Sam touched a hand to her shoulder. “Because it’s important to you. And if you’re hurting over something, then so am I.” He dipped his other hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “Here.” He thrust it at her. “Take it.”

  Suzanne stared at the wad of fifties and hundreds. “For gosh sakes, Sam. Where on earth did you get this kind of money? How much is here?”

  He smiled at her. “I don’t know, a couple of grand, I guess. Don’t worry about it, okay? Just buy the horses.”

  “Sam, I really need to know where this money came from.”

  “I’ve been saving up.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Okay, if you really must know, I’ve been saving money to pay for our wedding.”

  Suzanne was stunned. “For our . . .” Tears welled in her eyes, a sob tore from her throat. She couldn’t go on. Couldn’t choke out one more word.

  “You know, for the cake and flowers and things,” Sam explained. “Our reception and a romantic honeymoon.” He smiled at her, looking earnest and hopeful. “Just . . . wedding stuff.”

  Suzanne swallowed hard as she struggled to brush away tears and fought to find her voice. “But you told me that having a big ceremony and a fancy reception was important to you.”

  Sam leaned down and kissed her gently. “Sure, it would be nice. But it’s not nearly as important as you are, Suzanne.”

  Suzanne threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. “Oh, Sam. I love you so much.”

  Sam hugged her back just as tight. “And you, sweet Suzanne, are my everything.”

  Recipes from the Cackleberry Club

  Suzanne’s Chicken Pickin’ Stir-Fry

  3 whole chicken breasts

  2 tbsp. oil

  1 medium onion, diced

  1 red pepper, chopped

  1 green pepper, chopped

  ½ lb. mushrooms

  ⅓ cup your favorite stir-fry sauce

  ¼ tsp. crushed red pepper

  Cut chicken breasts into 1” pieces. Heat oil, add chicken, and stir for 1 minute. Add onion and stir for 1 minute. Add 2 tbsp. water, then cover and cook for 2 minutes. Add red and green peppers and mushrooms and stir for 2 minutes. Add stir-fry sauce and crushed red pepper. Cook, stirring until sauce is heated and chicken and vegetables are coated with sauce. Serve over rice. Yields 3 to 4 servings.

  Egg Drop Dead Soup

  2 cups chicken broth

  1 tsp. ground ginger

  1 tbsp. soy sauce

  2 eggs, beaten

  2 small green onions, chopped finely

  Salt and pepper to taste

  In a saucepan, bring chicken broth, ground ginger, and soy sauce to a simmer. Slowly stream in beaten eggs while stirring soup in one direction. Add chopped green onions. Add salt and pepper to taste. Yields 4 servings.

  Petra’s Molasses Bread

  2½ cups whole wheat flour

  ½ cup cornmeal

  1 tsp. salt

  1 tsp. baking soda

  ½ cup molasses

  1⅔ cups buttermilk

  Heat oven to 325 degrees. In large bowl, mix together whole wheat flour, cornmeal, salt, and baking soda. In separate bowl, stir molasses into buttermilk. Now pour liquid ingredients into dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined. Pour batter into a greased 9” x 5” loaf pan. Bake approximately 50 to 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Allow bread to cool for 10 minutes, then carefully turn out onto a wire rack. Yields 1 medium loaf.

  Harvest Pumpkin Soup

  1 (15-oz.) can pumpkin

  2 cups chicken broth

  ½ cup cream

  ½ tsp. pumpkin pie spice

  Whisk together all ingredients in large saucepan and simmer for 5 minutes. Continue to whisk soup until ready to serve. Yields 4 servings.

  Cackleberry Club Rice Pudding

  1 cup rice, uncooked

  1 tsp. salt

  2 cups cold water

  2 quarts milk

  ¾ cup sugar

  2 tsp. vanilla extract

  Place rice, salt, and water into a large saucepan. Cook over low heat, stirring occasionally until water is completely absorbed. Add 3 cups milk and cook uncovered until most of milk is absorbed. Add 3 cups milk and cook again. Add 2 cups milk and ¾ cup sugar. Cook until nice and creamy. Remove from heat and add in vanilla. Serve. Yields 6 servings. (Hint, top with raisins for dessert.)

  Toni’s Pumpkin Fudge

  2 cups sugar

  2 tbsp. pumpkin

  ¼ tsp. cornstarch

  ¼ tsp. pumpkin pie spice

  ½ cup Carnation condensed milk

  ½ tsp. vanilla

  In saucepan mix together sugar, pumpkin, cornstarch, pumpkin pie spice, and Carnation milk. Cook on medium-high heat until mixture forms a soft ball when dropped into cold water. Add vanilla and let cool for 10 minutes. Beat until creamy, then pour into a buttered 8” x 8” pan. When cool, cut into small squares. Yields 12 to 16 squares.

  Cheddar Breakfast Strata

  6 slices bread

  Butter, as needed

  1 cup cheddar cheese, shredded

  3 eggs

  2 cups milk

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Heat oven to 350 degrees. Slice crusts from bread and butter one side. Place slices butter-side down into baking dish. Sprinkle cheese over bread. Beat eggs and milk together and pour over bread. Add salt and pepper to taste. Bake strata for 30 to 40 minutes until golden and bubbly. Yields 4 servings.

  Suzanne’s Cherry Cake Bars

  1 pkg. white cake mix

  8 tbsp. butter, softened (divided)

  1¼ cup rolled oats (divided)

  1 egg

  1 (21-oz.) can cherry pie filling

  ½ cup chopped walnuts

  ¼ cup brown sugar, firmly packed

  Heat oven to 350 degrees. In large bowl, combine cake mix, 6 tbsp. butter, and 1 cup of oats. Mix until crumbly. Reserve one cup of this dry mixture for topping. To remaining dry mixture add egg and mix well until blended. Press mixture into greased 9” x 13” inch pan to form bottom crust. Pour cherry pie filling over this crust. With reserved dry mixture, add remaining ¼ cup oats, 2 tbsp. butter, nuts, and brown sugar. Beat until thoroughly mixed. Sprinkle carefully over cherry mixture. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until golden brown. Allow to cool. May be served with whipped cream or ice cream. Yields 6 servings.

  Apple Scones

  2 cups flour

  3 tsp. baking powder

  2 tbsp. sugar

  ½ tsp. cinnamon

  ½ tsp. salt

  6 tbsp. butter

  ½ cup apples, peeled and finely chopped

  4 tbsp. apple juice or apple cider

  Heat oven to 400 degrees. Combine flour, baking powder, sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Cut in butter. Add apples. Add enough apple juice to bring together a fairly stiff dough. Do not overmix. Roll dough out on a floured surface to ½” thickness. Cut into triangles and place on a greased baking sheet. (You can also use a scone pan.) Bake for approximately 10 minutes. Yields 10 to 12 scones.

  Keep reading for a preview of Laura Childs’s next Tea Shop Mystery . . .

  Pekoe Most Poison

  Coming March 2017 in hardcover from Berkley Prime Crime!

  PALMETTOS swayed lazily in the soft breeze, daffodils bobbed their shaggy heads as Theodosia Browning stepped quickly along the brick pathway that wound throu
gh a bountiful front yard garden, and up to the polished double doors of the Calhoun Mansion. Pausing, she pulled back the enormous brass boar’s head door knocker . . . nothing wimpy about this place . . . and let it crash against the metal plate.

  Claaaang. The sound echoed deep within the house as the boar’s eyes glittered and glared at her.

  Turning to face Drayton, her friend and tea sommelier, Theodosia said, “This should be fun. I’ve never visited Doreen’s home before.”

  “You’ll like it,” Drayton said. “It’s a grand old place. Built back in the early eighteen hundreds by Emerson Calhoun, one of Charleston’s early indigo barons.”

  “I guess we’re lucky to be invited then,” she said. Their hostess, Doreen Briggs, also known to her close friends as “Dolly,” was president of the Ladies Opera Auxiliary and one of the leading social powerhouses in Charleston, South Carolina. Theodosia had always thought of Doreen as being slightly bubbleheaded, but that could be a carefully cultivated act, aimed to deflect from all the philanthropic work that she and her husband were involved in.

  A few seconds later, the front door creaked open, and Theodosia and Drayton were greeted by a vision so strange it could have been a drug-induced hookah dream straight out of Alice in Wonderland. The man who answered the door was dressed in a powder blue velvet waistcoat, cream-colored slacks, and spit-polished black buckle boots. But it wasn’t his formal, quasi-Edwardian attire that made him so bizarre. It was the giant, white velvet rat head perched atop his head and shoulders. Yes, white velvet, just like the fur of a properly groomed, semi-dandy white rat, complete with round ears, long snout bristling with whiskers, and bright pink eyes.

  “Welcome,” the rat said to them as he placed one white-gloved hand (paw?) behind his back and bowed deeply.

  At which point Theodosia arched her carefully waxed brows and said, as a not-so-subtle aside to Drayton, “When the invitation specified a Charleston Rat Tea, they weren’t just whistling Dixie.”