Murder Down Under (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 17) by K.J. Emrick

the police station, too, but asking Kevin Powers to give them a map of the town right after asking him about the poisoning victims might raise a few questions they wouldn’t be able to answer.
    As they walked, another question nagged at Darcy.
    “Jon.  What’s Ice?”
    “Hmm?  I don’t understand what you mean.”
    “Back at the police station there was a poster about how Ice kills more than three hundred Australians every year.”
    “Oh.  That kind of Ice.  It’s a street name for methamphetamine.  I remember something about it being very popular over here right now.  It’s highly addictive.  And deadly.”
    Well, Darcy thought.  Australia and America had more in common than she realized.
    They didn’t take their time.  They had planned on walking around today.  Just to sightsee, and enjoy themselves.  There was no time for that now.  Kevin Powers said he wasn’t going to talk to Alec Beaudoin until this afternoon, but plans changed.  If he suspected Jon and Darcy had more interest in what was going on here in Lakeshore than a tourist should, he might just decide to go over to Evangeline Circle right now.
    It was a shame, really, because Lakeshore was a beautiful town.  Tall, narrow pine trees in their full green glory swayed everywhere, outside of town and in small clusters between the houses and buildings.  The sun was warm.  The breeze was nice, and carried the fresh scent of water from the nearby lakes.  They passed by several houses with people out in their yards playing with young children or doing chores.  A few smiled and waved.  It was a nice friendly town.
    Where people were dying.
    “Hey, look,” Jon said.
    He was pointing up at a brown metal street sign with yellow letters spelling out Evangeline Circle.
    “Guess we found it.” 
    He turned at the corner and she followed with him onto a street that was a little cul-de-sac, curving around to form a lazy circle of houses that were just as white and just as simply built as all the houses in town.  They followed the sidewalk to the right past small, neatly trimmed lawns.  “Now how are we supposed to find the house?  Want to go door to door and ask if anyone knows where Alec Beaudoin lives?”
    “Or we could just try that house there,” Darcy suggested with a confident smirk.
    In front of the house Darcy pointed to was a mailbox with a number thirteen on it and a black prancing stallion painted on the hinged door.  On the side was a name.  Beaudoin.
    “We could try that,” he agreed.  “See, that’s why you’re a consultant.”
    Darcy felt a twinge of guilt.  “I’m sorry, Jon.  We’re supposed to be here on our honeymoon and here I have us in the middle of a mystery.”
    With a look that warmed her inside, he told her it was all right.  “Besides,” he said, “I still don’t think there’s anything to this.  You promised me you’d drop it if there was nothing to it.  The police have done their investigation.  After we talk to this Alec guy I’m sure we’ll be able to get back to our vacation.”
    “So, you’re just humoring me?”
    He took her hand and led them up the front walk of the Beaudoin home.  “Maybe a little.  Isn’t that what a good husband would do?”
    “I think you qualified for the good husband seal of approval when you brought your wife all the way to Australia for her honeymoon.”
    Jon knocked on the door, and leaned over at the same time to kiss the side of her neck.
    She could feel her face turning pink.
    The door opened and a short man in a blue bathrobe stood not exactly smiling at them.  His brown hair was thinning even though he still tried to comb it over his scalp.  A pudgy face was pockmarked and bristly with a few days’ growth of beard. 
    “Help you?” he asked, in a rough and gravelly voice.
    “Hi.  I’m Jon Tinker.  This is my wife Darcy.  We’re looking for Alec Beaudoin.”
    “Found him.”  Alec crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his