Free Pistols & Pies (Sweet Bites Book 2) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) by Heather Justesen Page A

Well, and there was the whole being locked up in jail thing, far, far away from my fondant tools. On the other hand, that would be better than being shot and having him bury our bodies.
    Honey had left a door open and stepped inside. When I reached her, she was already coming out again. “Nothing in there. Of course, the whole thing could be a wild goose chase.”
    “I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.” I stuck my head inside, but it was just bags of oats. I wondered why he bought it by the bag. Couldn’t he get them in bulk? Wouldn’t it be cheaper that way? “The gun could be buried between or under the bags,” I suggested.
    She gave me a withering look. “If you think I’m moving two dozen fifty-pound bags of oats to look for a gun that might not even be there, you’re crazy. Especially since the email mentioned tack, not feed.”
    Hard to argue with someone when they make a point like that. I returned to my side of the building and continued searching down the wall. I came upon the horse stalls and poked my head in each one, looking to see if maybe one of them was being used as a tack room. The first two were empty—not even sporting a fresh layer of straw. When I came up on the third one, a horse head loomed at me from out of the darkness and puffed air in my eyes. I squeaked and stepped back, right into Honey.
    She pressed a hand to her chest. “You’re going to give me a heart attack. Cut it out!”
    “Sorry. My heart’s not exactly calm, either.” The shot of adrenaline from that scare made me more anxious to get this over with. As if I hadn’t already been nervous enough, now my hands were shaky with anticipation.
    We finished the row of stalls, finding several more horses, but nothing that looked like a tack room.
    “There has to be someplace here to keep their saddles and stuff,” Honey said, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room.
    “Unless we plan to go into the stalls to check for a gun there, we’ve only got one place left to look,” I whispered. I gestured for her to follow me.
    We returned to the locked door and I gave the handle another twist, but it didn’t budge. “Now what?” I asked.
    Honey looked at me and frowned. “I knew I’d have a need for this skill someday.” She reached up to her head, then knelt on one knee and stuck something in the key hole.
    “Are you picking the lock?” I asked. What was this, a Nancy Drew mystery?
     “I’m trying. I read something about it on the internet, but I’ve never tried it before.”
    “You think it’ll actually work?” I asked.
    “I guess we’ll see.” The minutes stretched and I checked my phone a couple of times to see how long it had been. I was just about to give up when she pumped her fist.
    She stood and turned the knob. “We’re in.”
    “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d get it.”
    She chuckled. “Me either.”
    She walked into the room and I followed.
    Bingo. Tack.
     
     

The walls were covered with hooks filled with bridles and straps and a dozen things I didn’t even recognize. We started poking around the room, looking behind saddles, checking between and under the blankets that were piled in one corner and then we hit pay dirt. In the gleam of my cell phone backlight, I could see the pistol shining in all its silver glory.
    Honey met my gaze and we did a high-five. I turned my phone back toward me and dialed Detective Tingey.
      It rang four times before he picked up. “Hello, this is Detective Tingey.”
    “Hi, this is Tess. I received an email tip earlier.” I didn’t realize until I heard his voice that I wasn’t sure how to explain what I was doing in Roper’s barn. I decided to ease into it.
    He huffed. “Do not tell me you went searching for the killer.”
    I hooked my finger into my belt loop and felt my eyes shift to the side—as if he could see me. “No, not the killer.”
    My voice must not have been very convincing because his grew hard. “Tell me.”
    “Well...