Double Dip Dilemma: A Cozy Mystery (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book 5)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Double Dip Dilemma

by

Constance Barker

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2015 Constance Barker

All rights reserved.

 

Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

 

 

 

While the weather in Caesars Creek Georgia cools down in November, we do have a few warm and humid days on occasion, much to Stormi’s chagrin. Just as she gets use to the low humidity…Wham!…humid air enters the picture leaving her blond waves like limp noodles trailing down her back. This morning the dew point soared as she scampered into the store, right to the long mirror situated at the back wall behind the ice cream case of my shop The Frozen Scoop. Her face fell as she picked up the end of a few strands of hair.

 

You have to understand, Stormi’s hair was her crowning glory. This short, curvy and sassy woman could handle extra pounds and gun wielding murderers, but frizz her hair and she’s on the warpath. She marched back to my shoppe’s door, opened it, and yelled into the wind.

 

“Dang you Georgia humidity for taking the life out of my hair!”

 

“Get a hat!” I heard someone yell from across the street.

 

I watched as Stormi waved her hand and replied, “Thanks for the tip.”

 

She turned around to look at me as the door to the shoppe swung closed. “My hair tip for the day from ol’ Charlie Ledbetter.”

 

I laughed. Ol’ Charlie, as most of the town called him, was 90, smoked cigars, and drove a souped-up motorized wheelchair from his home two blocks from town. Every day he’d drive the wheelchair to the little hardware store across the street from my shoppe and sit on the bench in front of the store. The thing was, he would drive the wheelchair on the street. Luckily he didn’t have far to go and a slow moving sign was attached to a flimsy pole installed on the back of his wheelchair. So if you were several cars back driving down Main Street at a speed of 5 mph, and up ahead you witnessed the bobbing and weaving of an orange triangle above the tops of the vehicles in front of you, you knew what the hold up was.

 

However, no one complained. The man was a WWII veteran who stormed Normandy Beach and enlisted in the army when he was 16. He lied on his enlistment form, something many young teenagers of today would never think of doing. Of course, it was different back then, or so I’m told. Not to say there aren’t kids today who wouldn’t fight for their country, but it’s a different generation. Fortunately, I knew two teenagers who were very bright and mindful of others. Samantha, or Sammy, my friend Paige and Bruce’s 17-year-old daughter, and her boyfriend Colton. Sammy helped at my shoppe when she could and Colton was a tech whiz who helped us with the shoppe’s video tapes during a murder investigation. I didn’t know it then, but in a few short minutes, all of us including the teens would be thrust into another mystery.

 

I opened the cash register and put money in the slots. “You need to buy some kind of non-frizz hairspray Stormi.”

 

“I’ve tried like 10 different kinds; nothing stands a chance against this darn Georgia humidity blanket. I’ve half a notion to cut it off and be done with it,” Stormi said as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

 

“Don’t cut it,” I exclaimed. “Greg would have a heart attack. You know he loves those long locks.”

 

Greg Manning was Stormi’s main squeeze and one of Caesars Creek’s finest police officers. She’d been seeing him for several months but I couldn’t tell if she was as enamored with him as he was with her. Not that Greg was outspoken with his affection. Being a police officer, he was quite stoic, but once a week a dozen red roses showed up at the shoppe with her name on them. At first, she was excited by the weekly gift, but now it seemed she wasn’t that impressed. Perhaps Greg needed to change it up a bit.

 

My own love life had received an infusion of late. Brandon, Stormi’s brother and I were dating. I was afraid it would be awkward at first, since we’d known each other since childhood, but it actually wasn’t. We still laughed and kidded one another as we always did. Only now, there was more affection to our relationship. And it helped that my little Westie Winchester also approved. He accompanied me to the shoppe everyday and was the official customer greeter.

 

Stormi slumped into a chair at one of my tables in the shoppe and Winchester jumped into her lap. “Greg may have to live with it.”

 

I stopped and looked at her. “Something wrong in paradise?”

 

Stormi sighed as she petted Winchester‘s head. “I don’t know. Honestly I love the man to pieces.” Stormi looked at me. “Did I just say that out loud?”

 

I smiled. It was the first time she’d ever said she was in love with any guy. “You sure did.”

 

“Then why do I feel so confused with a hundred thoughts racing through my head? I feel like I’m on a treadmill and can’t get off. Is this love? Tell me before my head spins off!”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I sat down at the table and grabbed her hand. “You’ll be fine. Love can sometimes hit you like a ton of bricks. For other people it’s a gradual climb. You’re one of the lucky ones whose been hit by a love tsunami.”

 

At that moment, the door opened. Stormi’s weekly delivery of flowers had just arrived, but this time it was different. An awesome bouquet of fall flowers with vibrant colors of red, orange and pink consumed the glass vase they were situated in. Tony, the florist/delivery person set them in their usual spot at the end of the ice cream case counter.

 

“Here’s your weekly bouquet Stormi,” Tony said as he turned to leave.

 

“Are you sure they’re for me?” Stormi asked. “This isn’t Greg’s normal flower choice.

 

Tony stopped. “Yep, they’re for you. He wanted something different and picked out the flowers himself this time.”

 

A big smile erupted on Stormi’s face. Tony headed off for his next delivery as Stormi walked over to smell the flowers of her bouquet.

 

A single tear streaked down her cheek as she bent to smell the pink asters. “I know I’m being silly, but this simple act tells me so much.”

 

“What do you mean Stormi?” I asked.

 

“Well, Greg is so wrapped up in his work sometimes that I wonder if he even pays attention to me.”

 

“But he sends you flowers every week.”

 

“Yes, and I know women would kill for such attention, but it was like he was going through the motions, like there was no feeling in it anymore. Just throw some flowers her way and she’ll be satisfied. At least that’s the way it was starting to feel. He’s at work most of the time and when we go out or at my place or his, the station is always calling.”

 

Stormi pointed towards the bouquet. “But this gives me hope that maybe I’m not just a second thought to him.”

 

I walked around the ice case counter and looked at her. “Stormi, you knew going in that Greg is a police officer who loves his work. I think him sending you flowers every week is his way of saying that you are on his mind, even if he can’t always show it.”

 

That seemed to brighten Stormi up a bit and she smiled. “Maybe you’re right. I’m being too hard on him. He is quite the catch, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes he is and so are you,” I said, wiping the counter down and then drying it with a clean cloth. “Just remember to let him know that every once and a while too.”

 

The door chime tinkled and several customers came in to make ice cream orders and get an early sugar fix for the day. Of course, our next door neighbor, Bruce, came in to order his morning strawberry kiwi smoothie to take back to his office. Bruce leased the building next door to my shoppe….at least he did after the dead body was removed.

 

“How’s it going this fine morning girls?“ Bruce asked as he grabbed a few napkins. “Ahhh I see someone got flowers again, but this time something new!”

 

Stormi took a swipe at him with her dishcloth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

 

Bruce pushed his straw out of its paper holder. “Don’t even try cupcake. My spidey-sense says a ring might not be far behind.”

 

Stormi giggled. “Stop it!”

 

Bruce looked at me and pointed at Stormi. “Look at her turning all shades of red.”

 

Before I could reply, we heard screeching tires and a violent crash that sounded like the crushing metal. We all dropped what we were doing and ran to the large plate glass window to look outside. We saw what looked like a Chevy Malibu impaled on a parked SUV.

 

“Call 911!” Bruce shouted as he ran out the door. Stormi grabbed her cell phone out of her purse as I followed Bruce. Winchester tried to follow me out the door, but I told him to stay.

 

Bruce and I ran across the street to the Chevy. The airbag had deployed and the woman behind the wheel shook her head. The window was down and Bruce bent down to look inside the car.

 

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked the woman who was trying to get her wits about her.

 

“I think so,” she answered. She pushed the deflating air bag towards the steering wheel and tried to open the door.

 

“No no,” Bruce replied attempting to stop her. “Why don’t we wait until the ambulance arrives before you start moving around.”

 

At that moment, she started to cry. “I don’t understand what happened,” she said. “All of a sudden my brakes didn’t work.”

 

“It’ll be okay,” I said trying to soothe her. “What’s your name?”

 

In a shaky voice, she answered. “Sandra Morgan.”

 

At that moment, I thought of Ol’ Charlie. We’d been so busy making sure the crash victim was all right I’d completely forgotten about Charlie. I quickly looked up over the carnage to where he’d been sitting on the bench only a few minutes before. And there he was. Safe and sound, taking a toke of his cigar like nothing had occurred only a few feet away. I guess when you storm Normandy Beach, a near hit with a car is child’s play.

 

Once I knew Charlie was okay I turned my attention back to Sandra who started to cry. Bruce was looking under the vehicles to make sure there were no gas leaks as Stormi hurried across the street. I could hear sirens in the distance. We weren’t far from the fire station and the first response service.

 

“Is she alright?” Stormi asked as she flew up to the car.

 

“I think she’s okay,” I answered. “Just shaken up. She said the brakes stopped working.”

 

“Oh my, you poor dear,” Stormi said. “That must have been scary.”

 

“It was,” Sandra replied through her tears. I felt so bad for her. She was terribly shaken and we weren’t sure of injuries although she wasn’t complaining of pain, but she could have been in shock. I was happy to see the ambulance, fire truck, and two police cruisers arrive on the scene.

 

Bruce told the officers he didn’t detect any gas leaks and the ambulance crew removed Sandra gently from the smashed car and onto a stretcher. Officer Greg Manning, Stormi’s main squeeze walked over to us.

 

“Did you girls see the accident?” He asked.

 

“No,” Stormi replied. “We heard the crash and then ran out afterwards.”

 

“Alright, why don’t you take Charlie over to the shoppe so he’s out of the way until we can pry these vehicles apart and get them out of here.”

 

“Can do Officer,” Stormi said seductively. “Oh, and I loved my bouquet.”

 

Greg attempted to remain stoic, but it was difficult when his sweetie batted her long lashes at him. He gave her a quick smile and said, “I’m glad.” Then he turned around and walked back to the accident. That was as much as Stormi was getting out of him while on duty, but it was enough.

 

Right then Paige, Bruce’s wife and my other best friend, came running up to us.

 

“What in the Sam Hill happened here?” Paige blurted out. Before I could answer Stormi grabbed her by the arm and said, “Come on, we have to get Ol’ Charlie before he blows us all to kingdom come with one of his cigars.” With that the two scrambled across the street to move Charlie from the bench to his wheelchair and then into my shoppe.

 

I walked back to The Frozen Scoop and found Winchester on his hind legs looking out at the commotion. “What’s going on boy?” I asked him. “Lots of excitement huh?”

 

He let out a woof of agreement and continued to look outside. Several customers came in wanting scoops of raspberry sherbet and butter pecan while asking about the accident. I couldn’t tell them much as I hadn’t seen the wreck, only the aftermath. Bruce remained outside talking to the officers. I watched with amusement as Stormi and Paige ran after Charlie in his motorized wheelchair. He zigzagged around shards of glass from the broken headlights and the girls tried to keep up. It was comical as Stormi would zig as Paige zagged and the two of them kept bumping into one another while trying to keep up with Charlie who was oblivious to their cries to slow down. As he rolled up to my door, he waited for them to catch up and open the door to let him in.

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