Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) by Tonya Kappes Page A

would like that.” There was no way Chance Ryland was going to postpone anything that made Cottonwood money. I took the first steps back to the truck. I had to get out of there.
    Stop loafing. You have a job to do. The whisper was a tad bit louder.
    I swallowed hard. I gritted my teeth. Shuffling my feet, I did the best I could to ignore the voice in my head. I picked up the pace.
    “It would be safer for the town if he did.” Rowdy trotted alongside me. “There is no way the carnival is going to put up rides in that mud puddle out there. It just wouldn’t be safe.”
    “I’ve got a few cases to solve,” I called over my shoulder, now with another thing to worry about on my mind. I was going to have to check out the fairgrounds and make an assessment of the situation, and possibly make a doctor’s appointment to check my head.
    I raised my hand in the air. “Bye,” I hollered.
    Jerking the keys out of my pocket, I jumped into the truck and jabbed them in the ignition, dropping them back on the ground along with the pin. “Damn!” I grabbed my palm, bleeding from another pin stick.
    Nothing was going right today. Nothing.
    I pushed in the walkie-talkie and said, “Betty.”
    Pulling out of the cemetery, I took a right on Main Street. I really wanted to please Viola, but Doc Walton’s murder was more important on the list of crimes.
    “Betty,” I yelled, thinking she didn’t hear me the first time.
    “Kenni, I’m here,” she snapped, sounding out of breath. “You wouldn’t believe all the calls we’re getting. And people stopping in to get information.”
    Oh yes I would. I shook my head. She continued talking and I heard some whispering in the background.
    “They are all curious to know if you have any leads on the murder and the break-in. And if the seedy condos by Doc’s house are where it all started?” Betty asked.
    “Betty, you can tell everyone that’s hanging around Cowboy’s and drinking coffee that I do not discuss official business. They should go home.” If I stayed on the walkie-talkie any longer, I just might lose it. “Can you please call Wyatt and ask him to drive out to the fairgrounds and check to make sure there’s no flooding?”
    “Sure can, Ken—” She stopped herself. “Sheriff Lowry.”
    “Oh, I’d almost forgotten, I need you to call the mayor. I’d like them to call an emergency meeting as soon as they can get it scheduled.”
    “Kenni.” Betty stopped me from hanging up. “I mean, Sheriff, Max Bogus just called. He said he had something to show you, so you need to stop by the funeral home.”

Chapter Seven

      
    Max Bogus’s hearse was parked next to the funeral home. I pulled up behind him and parked the Jeep. The lapel pin was still in my grasp. My heart took a dip when I looked at the pin and could clearly remember Poppa wearing it. I stuck it through my shirt. In my bag was a pencil; I popped off the eraser and used it as a stopper to keep the pin in place.
    The morgue and funeral home was a one-stop shop. Like any business in Cottonwood, the door to the funeral home was unlocked and I let myself in. There wasn’t any commotion coming from the funeral home and Max’s hearse was outside, which meant one thing: I was going to have to go downstairs to the morgue to find Max.
    I stood in the doorway, my eyes fixed on naked Doc Walton. Though it was almost lunch, it was still too early to see a corpse, much less that of Doc Walton.
    “You aren’t going to believe what I found on Ronald.” Max and Doc Walton had been friends. “It’s the strangest thing.”
    “What?”
    Max stood over Doc with a scalpel in his hand, blue lab coat slung open, a big pair of goggles on his round face. He looked up. His black eyes were round like large marbles. “Don’t tell me you’re squeamish.”
    “No, not at all.” I gulped, taking a step closer.
    Suddenly, as if someone was pushing me from behind, my feet scooted across the floor without me picking them