Flames, Frames, & Murder Read online

  I screamed and ducked behind a chair. Jax sent another bottle flying just as Wyatt got his bearings. It missed him by a good three inches. Scowling, he turned the gun on Jax. Fearing she’d be shot, I popped up from behind the chair and lobbed a green bottle his way. Luckily I’d dropped back down after I threw it, because while the bottle managed to hit him square in the face, it also caused him to fire another round. The bullet barely missed me…again.

  Jax crawled over to where I was. “I’m going to throw the stakes at him. I want you to cover me.”

  I nodded and gathered up four more bottles of paint in my arms. “Ready!”

  “Now!” she cried.

  We both stood up at the same time, me throwing bottle after bottle of opened acrylic paint, while she let the sharp stakes fly. I didn’t stop throwing, not even when I heard Wyatt scream in pain. It wasn’t until I’d thrown my last bottle that I realized he was on the ground.

  And the room looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.

  A huge metal spike stuck out from Wyatt’s upper thigh and another one from his chest. The gun lay about three feet from his body. His eyes went from the gun to us. Grunting, he sat up—metal sticks poking precariously out of him—and scrambled to the gun. Jax got there first and reached down to grab it. Wyatt kicked his leg out and caught Jax in the knee, causing her to scream and hit the ground. Her shoulder knocked the gun and it shot out across the paint like a cannonball.

  Cursing, Wyatt backhanded Jax across the face and she went limp. Staggering to his feet, he went for the gun at the same time I gave a guttural yell and leaped onto his back. My weight, along with the slipperiness of the floor, was enough to send us both sliding forward, me toppling headfirst over him, landing on my back…him on his hands and knees. Gasping, I flipped over and scrambled on all fours toward the gun. There was so much paint on the ground I couldn’t get my footing and was sliding everywhere.

  When Wyatt’s hand clamped down on my ankle, I screamed and kicked out in frustration. Looking over my shoulder, I saw him stagger to his feet once again. I knew if he got to the gun before me, it would all be over. Still on my hands and knees, I thrust my right arm out as far as it would go and slapped around for the gun. Paint splashed onto my face and in my eyes, but I didn’t care. I had one goal in mind.

  Through my burning, stinging eyes, I saw Wyatt’s legs walk over me and saw his hand pick up the gun. I could hear him laughing as he brought his boot down hard on my back, knocking my arms out from under me, and pinning me to the floor. I suddenly knew how a bug felt right before it was squished.

  Lifting my head as high as I could, I saw one of his legs in front of my face. Hatred and rage engulfed my body as I lay there squirming on my stomach, thinking about what he’d done to Sophia and what he planned to do to Heidi, Bridget, Jax, and me. There was no way I was going to let him get away with it.

  “This damn thing better work even though it’s coated with paint,” Wyatt growled, “because I don’t have time to mess around anymore.”

  “I’ve already called the cops,” I cried. “They’ll be here any minute. You’re going to jail for killing Sophia.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Ya know what, I think I’m going to shoot you first. You’ve been a pain in my butt since the day I met you.”

  “Bite me!” Still flat on my stomach, I reached down inside my pocket and brought out Tillie’s stun gun. Slapping it against the side of his shin, I pushed the button and screamed like a madwoman as he started convulsing. Two seconds later, he fell to the ground, and I was still sending volts of electricity coursing through him.

  “Jaycee! Jax!”

  I was vaguely aware of my name being called, but I couldn’t grasp who it was over the crazy, witch-like cackling bouncing around in my skull.

  “Jaycee?” Jax sat down next to me, trying to pry the stun gun away. “I think you can stop shooting him with electricity.”

  “Never!” I screamed.

  “Jaycee! Jax! Where the hell are you girls!”

  I heard Jax respond, but I couldn’t make out what she said. Her voice was soft and soothing, and I wanted to pay attention to her, but I couldn’t seem to focus.

  I felt arms lift me in the air, and I cried out in frustration when I dropped the stun gun.

  “Shhh,” someone whispered. “It’s okay. I got you, Jaycee.”

  It was a man’s voice. A gruff voice.

  “Gramps?” I whispered.

  “I’m right here,” he said. “It’s okay. You’re fine. Jax is fine. Heidi and Bridget are fine.”

  I could feel my body start to shake. “I got him good, Gramps. He ain’t gonna hurt anyone ever again.”

  “No, he’s not,” Gramps agreed.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head against his broad, strong chest. I was suddenly too tired to move.

  “That’s right,” Gramps said in my ear, “just rest up now, girl. By the way, Mike’s going to kill you.”

  Chapter 18

  “Where is she, Colonel?”

  I heard the anger in Mike’s voice and tried to hide behind Jax. The four of us—Heidi, Bridget, Jax, and I—were sitting on the back end of the one and only ambulance the town had right now since the other one was still being used in Santa Rosa. Heidi was being treated for a slight concussion.

  Wyatt had been hauled away, and once Carmen had been roused, she was carted off in the back of a police car to the hospital for further treatment.

  “What—why—I can’t even—”

  “Now son,” Gramps said, “let’s not yell at her too much right now. She’s been through a lot.”

  I peeked around Jax’s shoulder and whimpered as Mike pushed past Gramps and stomped my way. There was an anger and fierceness on his face I hadn’t seen before. I mean, I’d made him plenty mad over the last few months with my sleuthing, but usually I got off with a frown and small lecture.

  The man charging toward me now, glaring at me, wasn’t anyone I recognized. And in that second, I wanted to stand up and shout at him that I was my own woman, and I could well and truly take care of myself. I didn’t need him telling me what I could and could not do. I stood, fists clenched, hands on hips, eyes narrowed. He was going to hear a thing or two from me, and I didn’t care who was around to hear it.

  But when he got to within a few feet of me, his whole demeanor changed. Gone was the rage and anger…in its place was fear. And that rocked me to my core. I’d never seen Mike afraid of anything.

  “What were you thinking?” A look of pure anguish crossed his face, and he dropped to his knees and stared up at me. “Do you realize how close you came to dying?” He grabbed hold of my hips and shook me. “Do you? Do you have any idea the absolute terror I experienced on the ride over?”

  I looked down into his eyes and was surprised to see little drops of water falling to the ground. It took a second for it to register that they were my tears.

  “I—I’m sor—sorry,” I sobbed. “I don’t—”

  He yanked me forward and buried his head in my stomach, his arms coming around my back. We stayed like this—me telling him I was sorry and threading my fingers through his hair, him breathing hard and heavy against my stomach—for a few minutes. Neither of us really saying anything.

  Finally he set me back and shook his head. “I just don’t know what to do with you, Jaycee.”

  My heart suddenly felt like it was being squeezed. Was he going to break up with me? I knew he was angry, but I just didn’t think I could bear it if he told me we were through.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I looked up and realized Gramps, Tillie, Mom, Andrew, Trevor, and even Duke were all watching our exchange with trepidation. Did they expect him to break up with me, too?

  I reached up to wipe the tears off my face. Looking down at my hands, I realized the only thing I’d succeeded in doing was smear more of the acrylic paint all over me.

  “Jaycee?” Mike said from his still-kn
eeling position.

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “Do you know how much I love you?”

  I didn’t really think he wanted a response from me, so I just continued to stare…telling myself I wouldn’t cry anymore, and I definitely wasn’t going to beg him not to leave.

  “Since meeting you, I’ve experienced more emotions than I ever knew I had.” He snorted. “On any given day you make me want to strangle you, pull you close, kiss you, love you, strangle you.”

  “You’ve mentioned strangle twice,” I said.

  He gave me a hard look. “I’m aware.”

  I shrugged. “Just saying.”

  He grabbed my hands off my hips, unclenched my fists, and ran his thumbs over the tops of my fingers. “I made a pit stop at my parents’ house the other day while I was in Santa Rosa.”

  I blinked in confusion at his sudden change of topic. “Okay. How are they?”

  He gave a small laugh. “They’re fine. Anyway, I wasn’t positive when exactly I’d need it, but I stopped by their house to pick up something my mom gave me years ago.”

  “Okay.”

  My mind raced, wondering what he was even talking about. One minute he says he loves me, then he wants to strangle me, and now he’s talking about his parents. Maybe I’d been hit upside the head like Jax and Heidi and just didn’t realize it.

  He dug in his pocket and pulled something out, shoving it at me from his kneeling position. I blinked down at it, not saying anything. I heard the girls scream behind me, and I knew something important was happening, but I honestly just stared stupidly at the box.

  He flipped open the lid and it was like the breath I’d been holding rushed out of me in a gasp. “What?”

  “It was my grandmother’s ring,” he said.

  “What are you—are you—”

  “Jaycee Sullivan, love of my life and sometimes bane of my existence, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  I stared down at the ring and then at him. “You want to marry me?”

  He laughed. “Well, I was thinking about it.”

  “Why? Aren’t you mad at me?”

  He pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on my finger. “Yes, I am. I’m so mad at you right now I can barely function. But I also love you more than I can say. I felt like I was being physically beaten on the drive over here thinking you might be hurt…or worse, dead. I realized at that moment no matter how angry I was at you, I couldn’t live without you either.” He shrugged. “It was then I knew this was the moment. This was the right time to ask you to marry me.”

  “Wow.” I ran my hands over my hair and face. “I must look hideous. This isn’t how I imagined you asking me.”

  He stood up and brushed his hands over my face, wiping the paint off as best he could. “This wasn’t exactly how I planned it, either. But I think it’s the perfect time. So is this a yes?”

  I grinned. “So does this mean you aren’t going to lecture me?”

  Yanking me to him, he dropped his mouth to mine, and I shut everything else out of my mind.

  ***

  By the time I answered all the questions the Chief asked me, Gramps was grumbling about leaving and being forced to open Gone with the Whiskey on his own.

  Mike also had to leave to interrogate Wyatt, and I wanted nothing more than to take a shower and stare at my ring. We decided to all meet back up at the bar around three. That would give me plenty of time to go home, shower, and finally make myself presentable for when I finally saw Mike again later that night.

  “It’s about time!” Gramps said when I ambled through the bar’s front door around three.

  I grinned and blew him a kiss. Jax had driven over earlier with Trevor, while Mom, Tillie, Andrew, and Duke had ridden with Gramps to open the bar.

  “Get over here,” Bridget called out. “I want to see that ring again.”

  “Later,” Gramps said. “We got thirsty customers.”

  And just like that, things were back to normal.

  Mike sauntered in around five, looking exhausted but happy. He gave Duke a brisk pat and me a quick kiss.

  “We want to hear it all,” I said.

  Heidi, Bridget, Jax, and Trevor were already at the bar talking with Gramps, so Tillie, Mom, and Andrew abandoned their comfy chairs to stand at the bar to hear what Mike had to say.

  “This one wasn’t pretty,” Mike said. “In fact, it was a complete mess. We never really knew what was going on. I was sure Carl was the bad guy.”

  “Carmen admitted he was a patsy,” I said. “His anger finally got him in hot water. They used the fact he threatened Sophia to set him up.”

  “Hopefully he’ll remember this the next time he’s a big meanie,” Tillie said.

  “I also spoke with an elderly lady by the name of Deloris Lindell,” I said, “who swears Wyatt stole a painting from her.”

  “I’ll be sure to look into it,” Mike promised.

  “I’m so heartbroken for Victor,” Mom said, “but I’m glad it’s finally over.”

  “I spoke to Victor on my drive over here to let him know what had transpired,” Mike said. “He’s relieved it’s over, but it’s going to be a long time before he heals.”

  “So Wyatt confessed to everything?” I asked.

  “He claims he didn’t intend to shoot and kill Sophia. She’d told him earlier that she was going to come into town to Gone with the Whiskey and catch up on the latest fire news. He was shocked when he saw her sleeping on the couch. He’d hoped she would stay asleep, but she didn’t. She woke up and called you, Jaycee. He heard her, panicked, and shot her.”

  I scoffed. “Carmen told me it was always their plan to kill her. Drive up the prices for her paintings.”

  “I’m sure the DA will think so too,” Mike said. “He and his sister won’t be getting out of jail for a long time.”

  “So it’s finally over,” Heidi said.

  Mom placed her arm on Andrew’s. “I just wish the fires in Santa Rosa were over.”

  “They evacuated Calistoga this afternoon,” Gramps said. “Guess it’s a good thing we left when we did.”

  “When do you think they’ll have the fires under control?” I asked.

  Mike shrugged. “I have no idea. I think it’s only about twenty percent contained right now.”

  “Speaking of out of control and ball and chain,” Bridget snickered, “when’s the big day you two?”

  “Oh.” I looked down at my engagement ring and smiled. “I don’t know.”

  Mike pulled me close and rested his chin on my head. “Knowing Jaycee, it could be two weeks or two years, right?”

  I grinned. That was exactly how I felt. I was just getting used to being engaged. I wasn’t in any hurry to get married.

  I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Not to worry, I’ll give you a heads up when I finally decide.”

  He winked. “Good to know.”

  Recipe

  The Drunken Apple

  Ingredients:

  3 large cans Apple Pie Filling

  1 box yellow cake mix

  1 1/3 cup Oats

  1 cup brown sugar

  ¼ tsp melted butter

  2/3 cup Fireball (divided)

  2/3 cup spiced rum (divided)

  Assemble:

  In a 9x6 baking dish, dump the three apple pie fillings and add 1/3 cup Fireball and 1/3 cup spiced rum. Mix together.

  In a medium-sized bowl, add cake mix, oats, brown sugar, melted butter, and 1/3 cup Fireball and 1/3 cup spiced rum. The consistency will be crumbly like a crisp topping. Drop on top of apple pie filling.

  Bake 375 for 20 minutes.

  *EXTRA: Add vanilla bean ice cream.

  If you are looking for a subtle boozy taste, serve warm straight from the oven. If you want something with a little more “KICK”…then serve the next day either warmed in the microwave or cold. Both were equally delicious.

  About the Author

  Jenna writes in t
he genres of cozy/paranormal cozy/ romantic comedy. Her humorous characters and stories revolve around over-the-top family members, creative murders, and there's always a positive element of the military in her stories. Jenna currently lives in Missouri with her fiancé, step-daughter, Nova Scotia duck tolling retriever dog, Brownie, and her tuxedo-cat, Whiskey. She is a former court reporter turned educator turned full-time writer. She has a Master’s degree in Special Education, and an Education Specialist degree in Curriculum and Instruction. She also spent twelve years in full-time ministry.

  When she’s not writing, Jenna likes to attend beer and wine tastings, go antiquing, visit craft festivals, and spend time with her family and friends. Check out her website at https://jennastjames.com/. Don’t forget to sign up for the newsletter so you can keep up with the latest releases! You can also friend request her on Facebook at jennastjamesauthor/ or catch her on Instagram at http://instagram.com/authorjennastjames.