Free Worst Laid Plans (A Maddox Storm Mystery Book 1) by Claire Robyns Page A

Colby?”
    Her head snapped the other way. I thought she’d walk straight past, but at the last moment she drew to an abrupt halt and looked me in the eye.
    “I never thought I’d see the day when you spread malicious gossip, Maddox Storm,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “Your mother will be hearing about this.”
    I opened my mouth to ask what I’d done, but she was already shuffling along.
    What in the world?
    Lily’s face was plastered to the front shop window, unabashedly watching the show. She met my bewildered gaze, hurried to the door and popped her head out.
    “What’s going on?” I asked.
    “Mrs Colby’s in a dreadful fluster.”
    That much was obvious. “But what have I supposedly done?”
    “It’s not you she’s upset at, Maddie, it’s that new detective. He seems so nice and charming, doesn’t he? Only, he had her hauled into the station for questioning like a common criminal. I’ve been feeding her chamomile tea for the last hour, but poor Mrs Colby’s nerves are shot.”
    “Why would he…?” Oh, no. Snippets of my loose-tongued rant came back to me and my stomach dropped.
    He wouldn’t dare!
    Except he clearly had if Mrs Colby’s verbal attack was anything to go by. I wasn’t the one spreading malicious—okay, well, I wasn’t the only one spreading malicious gossip and at least I didn’t haul innocent old ladies out of their morning routine and give them the flutters.
    I spun about and charged across the green. Lily called after me, but it was just background noise to the red mist bubbling in my head.
    I didn’t actually recall telling the detective that Mrs Colby had wagged her finger after the departing Buick, threatening to kill Ms Daggon deader than dead, but it was a possibility. A lot of that morning was a blur, thanks to my early bird surprise and a couple of shots of Jack Daniels. I’d definitely told him about Muffins, that much I did remember, and maybe that was enough for plausible motive?
    I bounded up the town hall steps, hooked a right down the passage and barged through the glass-paneled door of the police station. Suzie-Sue was at the front desk, popping gum and admiring her manicure.
    “Suzie-Sue?” I said, double-blinking at the round-faced girl with auburn locks teased to high heaven.
    And in case you’re wondering, yes, that’s the best her parents could come up with. Maybe they just liked the name so much, once wasn’t enough.
    “Hey there, Maddie.” She blew a bubble, popped it, then sucked the gum back in. “I hear you’re the lady of the hour.”
    I didn’t even want to ask.
    “I need to see Detective Bishop,” I said politely, sounding like a perfectly sane human being without a flicker of homicidal tendencies. An Oscar winning performance, if I said so myself.
    Suzie-Sue’s baby blues narrowed on me and her tone became all prissy. “Detective Bishop’s not available right now.”
    My blood pressure climbed a notch.
    Of course he wasn’t available. He’d probably dragged Mrs Biggenhill in straight after he was done mauling Mrs Colby. Oh dear Lord, who else had I incriminated? I couldn’t think of anyone right now, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t. In any case, the things I’d said about the Daggon-Biggenhill saga overshadowed anything and everyone else. If anyone had motive for murder, it was poor Mrs Biggenhill.
    Suzie-Sue popped her gum and went back to admiring her nails.
    I rounded the long reception desk, my eye on the swing doors behind. Unfortunately, Suzie-Sue was not that engrossed in her manicure. She reached the doors before I did and spread-eagled herself in front of them like a mother bear protecting her cubs.
    She was also a whole lot couple of inches shorter than me, which allowed me to glare down on her with serious intent.
    “Let me through,” I pushed through gritted teeth. This was ridiculous. Did Suzie-Sue even work here? I was pretty sure she’d still been in kindergarten when I’d graduated high