Lily's Homecoming Under Fire Read online

  Lily’s Homecoming Under Fire

  Calla Lily Mystery #1

  Anna Celeste Burke

  Lily’s Homecoming Under Fire

  Copyright © 2018 Anna Celeste Burke

  https://desertcitiesmystery.com

  Published by Kindle Direct Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without written permission of the publisher except brief quotations for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Anna Celeste Burke

  Photos Credits: © Alphaspirit | Dreamstime.com & © Inara Prusakova | Dreamstime.com

  Books by USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling

  Author Anna Celeste Burke

  A Dead Husband Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery #1

  A Dead Sister Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery #2

  A Dead Daughter Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery # 3

  A Dead Mother Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery #4

  A Dead Cousin Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery #5

  A Dead Nephew Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery #6 [2019]

  Love A Foot Above the Ground Prequel to the Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery Series

  Cowabunga Christmas! Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery #1

  Gnarly New Year Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery #2

  Heinous Habits Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery #3

  Radical Regatta Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery #4 [2019]

  Murder at Catmmando Mountain Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #1

  Love Notes in the Key of Sea Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #2

  All Hallows’ Eve Heist Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #3

  A Merry Christmas Wedding Mystery Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #4

  Murder at Sea of Passenger X Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #5

  Murder of the Maestro Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #6

  A Tango Before Dying Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #7

  A Canary in the Canal Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #8 [2019]

  A Body on Fitzgerald’s Bluff Seaview Cottages Cozy Mystery #1

  The Murder of Shakespeare’s Ghost Seaview Cottages Cozy Mystery #2

  Grave Expectations on Dickens’ Dune Seaview Cottages Cozy Mystery #3 [2019]

  Lily’s Homecoming Under Fire Calla Lily Mystery #1

  Tangled Vines, Buried Secrets Calla Lily Mystery #2 [2019]

  Dedication

  To the love of my life who’s made every day an adventure, under fire or not!

  Table of Contents

  1 Coming Home

  2 The Morning After

  3 Aunt Lettie’s Legacy

  4 The Will

  5 Home Sweet Home

  6 An Old Flame

  7 Natural Causes

  8 An Unnatural Death

  9 Unlucky in Love

  10 Lucky at Cards

  11 A Change of Luck

  12 Trouble in the Vines

  13 A Harmless Little Friend

  14 A Toxic Brew

  15 A Body with Wine

  16 In their DNA

  17 A Family Affair

  18 Blood Ties

  19 The Cleanup

  20 A Posse of Divas

  Recipes

  Sliced Sweet Potato Pie

  Molasses Whipped Cream

  Transparent Pie

  Sweet Alabama Pecan Bread

  Chocolate Chip Cookies

  Easy Chili Relleno Casserole

  Sugar Snap Pea Soba Noodles

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to my husband, who listened as I read Lily’s Homecoming Under Fire aloud—more than once! His patience, feedback, and support are always welcome—especially when I feel bogged down.

  Thanks as well to Peggy Hyndman, who was the first editor on the manuscript before it was included in the Love Under Fire box set, and who edited again for this standalone version. I’m always grateful for her attention to detail and valuable feedback about content and grammar. Not to mention, she works with amazing grace “under fire” when up against a deadline!

  I’m also grateful to Ying Cooper who is a second editor on this book. Her sharp eyes and checks regarding my use of names and places are invaluable, in addition to hunting down typos and skipped words. No author could possibly be more blessed than I am to have such a capable woman working with me. Thank you, Ying!

  Andra Weis also provided wonderful feedback as an early reader and identified several awkward passages that I hope I’ve made easier to read in this version. The encouraging feedback from readers of advanced copies of this first book in the Calla Lily Mystery series have me relishing the prospect of writing more mysteries about Lily, Austin, Judy, Jesse, and all the interesting women in Lily’s “diva posse.”

  1 Coming Home

  The first bullet whizzed by my head. I saw a flash of light but couldn’t make sense of what was happening even when the bullet found a target behind me. I stood, frozen in place, on the front porch of the elegant private cottage Aunt Lettie’s lawyer had reserved for me. I hugged Marlowe who was barking fiercely and took a step backward into the foyer. Marlowe wriggled free and jumped to the floor.

  A hand holding a white Stetson whacked the porch light, shattering the fixture and the bulb. The owner of the Stetson bumped into me as he bounded indoors. That sent me sliding over the polished wood floor of my rustic chic suite. I yelped as I landed on my well-padded derriere and a barrage of bullets flew over my head.

  My heart raced as the shots sank into some surfaces and ricocheted off others. When I struggled to sit up, the stranger tackled me and forced me flat onto the floor. I fought to wrestle free. Marlowe snarled and pulled furiously at the man’s sleeve.

  “Stay down,” he said as he rolled off me. He shook his arm forcefully, and Marlowe tumbled away, end over end. Furious, I punched the man as he kicked the door shut with a firmly planted, exquisitely carved leather boot. In almost the same motion, he reached up and yanked the lamp off a table near the entry. As the room went dark, two bullets slammed into the heavy wooden front door and sent splinters flying.

  Moonlight streamed in through the sliding doors leading outside from the great room behind me. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see the shadowy figure straining to shove the sofa in front of the door. Marlowe had a grip on his pant leg, growling and shaking his head as he tore at the fabric.

  Were Marlowe and I being taken as hostages? I wondered as my stomach roiled in terror.

  As my would-be captor peeked through the blinds he’d shut, I flipped over onto my belly and scrambled, crablike, toward the safety of my master suite. The door could be bolted from inside. I didn’t get far before he grabbed me and pressed me flat again, knocking the wind out of me. The bullets shattered glass, and the maniac returned fire shooting at someone behind us. My heart sank as I realized he had a gun.

  In the distance, I could hear a siren blaring. As it drew closer, I heard shouts, and then footsteps. The footsteps came from the deck outside my bedroom. A minute or two later, tires screeched as a vehicle took off.

  “I’ve told you, already—stay down.” This time when he rolled away, the intruder pulled a phone from a pocket. Then he handed Marlowe to me. “Take this and keep it quiet.”

  “Rikki,” he said almost immediately after he placed a call. “I’ve got a situation on my hands.” Those sirens blared now. I imagined them racing toward us up the long driveway leading from the roadw
ay to the cottage.

  I considered making a run for it again while the madman spoke on the phone in a low voice. The sofa blocked the front door, but maybe I could escape out the sliding doors to the deck and take the same route the gunman had used. With my luck, running in the dark, I’d impale myself on an enormous shard of glass. A piece of glass might make a good weapon, though. With my free hand, I carefully explored the floor around me, searching for anything that I could use to hurt this guy. He hadn’t even flinched when I landed a blow earlier.

  “How should I know? Give me a second and I’ll ask her.” No longer speaking in a whisper, his voice jolted me.

  “My boss has a question for you.” The glow of light from his phone lit the space around him. He was leaning back on his haunches, squatting down like a catcher behind home plate. “Who wants you dead?”

  “Me?” I replied. “Why would anyone want me dead? Those psychopaths must have been after you! Why did you lead them here? Ask ‘your boss’ who’s going to pay for the destruction they left behind? Not me, I can assure you.” I was growing angrier by the minute.

  “She has no idea,” he said to the person on the other end of that call. “Okay, thanks.” He slipped the phone into a shirt pocket. Then he held out a hand.

  “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Austin Jennings.”

  “Lily Callahan,” I replied.

  “Lily, I’m glad to meet you, although I wish we were saying hello under better circumstances. You’re safe. The bad guys are gone, and the cavalry will arrive any minute now. May I help you up?” The sirens wailed, hurtling toward us.

  “Yes, if you promise not to tackle me again.” I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. “Shoot!” I exclaimed as I stood. During the fracas, I must have busted a heel on my favorite pair of ankle boots. The pricey designer boots had been one of the gifts in a swag bag at the Emmy Awards ceremony I’d attended a couple of years ago.

  “Are you okay?” Austin asked as I lost my balance and fell forward, right into his arms. My head rested on his chest for a split second. I could hear his heart pounding. The scent of the outdoors clung to him despite the fact he was damp with sweat from exertion. His embrace was comforting, although I still had the urge to wring his neck. In part, he’d worked up that sweat by wrestling me to the floor more than once. I held onto his arm as I reached down, unzipped the boot, and removed it.

  “Ooh, ouch!” I said as I did that. “Don’t worry. I’m sore, but nothing’s broken except the heel on my boot.” When I looked up, he’d bent over a little to see what I was doing. His face, cast in moonlight and shadow, was closer than I’d expected, and my lips brushed against his cheek when I spoke. “Sorry,” I said as I put my unclad foot back onto the floor, still a little wobbly.

  “Hang on,” he said. “I’m going to take off the other one for you.” He smiled for the first time. I couldn’t help returning his smile, even though I still held him accountable for one of the most terrifying events of my life.

  Apparently, Marlowe had completely forgiven him. He stood next to Austin with his tail whipping the marshal’s arm near where my pint-sized pooch had previously tried to sink his teeth into it. Out in front of my guest house, I could hear vehicles screeching to a halt and doors slamming. I’m not sure why Marlowe wasn’t concerned about the disturbance going on outside.

  There’s still a disturbance going on in here, too, I thought. I sucked in a tiny gulp of air when Austin gently, but firmly, grasped my calf, and lifted my foot. I clutched his shoulder to steady myself. He unzipped the boot, and then slowly removed it before placing my foot back onto the floor.

  “That’s better isn’t it?” He asked as I let go and he stood up not more than a few inches from me. So close, I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. I nodded. I wasn’t sure if he could see my response in the pool of moonlight that was still the only source of illumination in the room.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, managing just that one word before Marlowe’s tail stopped wagging. What sounded like a platoon of soldiers stormed up the porch steps. It wasn’t until someone pounded on the door that Marlowe began to bark again.

  “Austin, Rikki just called. Will you let us in and tell us what the hell is going on?”

  “Give me a minute,” Austin hollered. He dashed to the door and moved the sofa out of the way. The door swung open, and flashlights sought us out. The beams moved from Austin to me. They lingered there until Marlowe growled and they put him in the spotlight.

  A uniformed officer I guessed to be in his early fifties was the first person over the threshold. Before I could get a good look at him, he flipped a wall switch, and I had to shield my eyes when the overhead lights came on. They were way too bright after what I’d experienced as an eternity of moonlight and madness.

  “Holy crap!” Another officer cried as he stepped through the doorway and scanned the carnage. The extent of the damage was stunning.

  “Marlowe! Come!” I commanded. My obedient Miniature Pinscher sprang into my arms as more people filed into the room. I felt exposed standing there barefoot and disheveled. Or, maybe it was because Austin Jennings hadn’t taken his eyes off me since the lights went on.

  “Oh, no! This is a disaster,” a man said. Wearing a sports coat emblazoned with the resort logo, he had to be the resort’s night manager. “I demand you answer Sheriff Conner’s question, Marshal Jennings.”

  “Lily Callahan is that you?” A younger officer asked. “It’s me, Denny Saunders. I haven’t seen you in years except on TV. What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come home.”

  “What a homecoming, huh? You sure know how to make an entrance! This is like something out of a movie—Lily’s Homecoming Under Fire!” He grinned from ear to ear, gesturing as though he was reading the title on a theater marquee. “Welcome home.”

  2 The Morning After

  I stumbled out of bed the next morning, disoriented when I awoke to someone pounding on my door. I knew Marlowe wasn’t any happier than I was about it by the way he was snarling and barking. When the events from last night suddenly rushed in on me, I went on alert.

  “Marlowe!” I called in a hushed tone. “Come!”

  I slipped on the soft chenille robe the resort provides to guests even in their more modest accommodations. The resort manager finally got over his huffy tone about the disaster in my cottage when I threatened to sue him because of the lousy security. He’d blanched when I asked him to consider what it could mean if word got out that two well-armed men had managed to get into the resort, destroy one of their pricey, exclusive properties, and nearly kill the occupant.

  “Maybe it’s our luggage,” I muttered as I hurried to the door. “I bet you’d like your breakfast, wouldn’t you?” Marlowe wagged his tail. His food and dishes, like everything else I’d taken into the cottage, had been left behind last night. Fortunately, I hadn’t unpacked much—figuring that in a night or two I’d be in my own bed at Aunt Lettie’s house.

  The police asked me to leave without collecting much more than my purse and a pair of shoes. I flushed remembering how the marshal had helped me slip out of my boots. What is my problem? I wondered. I couldn’t remember ever having met a man who’d managed to get under my skin as quickly as Austin Jennings had.

  “It’s a strange bonding thing, I bet, Marlowe.” Marlowe made this funny little chuffing sound that I took to mean he agreed with me.

  I hoped someone with the resort had brought my car, too. I’d left it parked in the cottage garage while police investigators searched the property for shells and other evidence about the shooters. Who knows what condition the car or my other possessions were in. When I peeked through the peephole, my mouth fell open.

  “What do you want?” I asked when I’d opened the door as far as I could without undoing the chain.

  “I’ve got your luggage—and a few questions—for you.” Austin stood there with my bags next to him and a basket in his hands.

  “Should I put o
n body armor under my robe first?” I didn’t wait for a reply. I shut the door, gave the belt on my robe a tug, and then opened the door wide. “What’s that?”

  “Breakfast!” Austin announced as he zipped past me into the hotel room and set the basket on a small dining table just off the kitchenette.

  My new suite was nice, but nothing like the cottage Franklin Everett had reserved for me. The manager claimed this was the best he could do under the circumstances. I hadn’t raised a fuss. After being hunted like a deer, the cottage in the woods had lost its charm. The adrenalin that had raged through my body during the onslaught gave way to exhaustion as I let the resort manager drive Marlowe and me to the hotel.

  “For you, too, Marlowe!” Austin tossed a little bone-shaped dog biscuit that Marlowe caught in the air. “His bowls and dog food are in the paper sack along with a few other personal items you left in the master bath.”

  I stepped into the hallway and grabbed the bag. I snagged the handle on a big roller bag too and dragged it into the room. Austin was out there in a flash and hauled in the rest of my luggage.

  “I brought in everything from your car since I wasn’t sure what you needed for today. Somehow, the garage and your car were undamaged. Want me to set up breakfast on the balcony?”

  “Won’t I make myself an easy target for whoever you believe is trying to kill me?”

  “Unless the next person who comes after you is a hotel guest or an employee, you’ll probably live through breakfast.”

  “What about the storm troopers who were following you around last night?”

  “They weren’t following me. I was following them. I had them cornered, too, when I saw one of them aim at you. If I hadn’t thrown him off at the last second, that first bullet wouldn’t have missed. You can tell they weren’t happy about it by what happened after that. Guns for hire don’t get full payment until the target is delivered.” An image of myself strapped to the top of a truck with a bullet in my head flitted through my mind.