Free January Thaw (The Murder-By-Month Mysteries) by Jess Lourey

had hired me back in November to investigate an apparent hunting accident. Two corpses later, I solved the crime, but not before uncovering an ancillary drug operation very close to home on top of nearly losing my own life. The fact that Chuck was willing to hire me told me that his law office had very low standards. Fine by me.
    “Ms. James! So glad you could make it.”
    He motioned me to sit across the booth from him at the Shoreline Café. The Shoreline was the Winchester House of Battle Lake, perpetually being added onto. It had started with a cute dining room and kitchen. Then, a cavernous dining room had been added in the back beyond the restrooms. Next, a bar and ice cream parlor were attached, and a bowling alley was added on to that. The layout felt a little jigsaw puzzled, but this was easy to forget once you dug into their fluffy omelets, or better yet, their heavenly eggs Benedict.
    Chuck had chosen a booth at the bay window facing West Battle Lake, the perfect location to see who was coming and going. In the distance and to the right, I spotted the top spires of the ice castle peeking over the trees.
    “Have you been waiting long?” I asked.
    He pointed at a small white plate dusted with crumbs. “Long enough to polish off a piece of homemade cherry pie. My wife would kill me if she knew I was having that for breakfast.”
    The three cookies in my stomach nodded in sympathy. “It’s Sunday,” I said. “A day of rest and desserts.”
    He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don’t suppose I could talk you into your own piece of pie? I’d feel better if I wasn’t the only one who slipped.”
    I took the seat across from him. My jeans were already feeling a little tourniquety around the waist. I’d figured they’d loosen as the day wore on and the fabric had a chance to stretch. It felt good to have a plan. “Sure. Caramel apple for me.”
    He ordered that and another piece of cherry for himself, because “a gentleman never lets a lady eat alone.” I added on a cup of coffee with real cream. While we waited, he slipped into the reason he’d brought me here, Lutheran-style—which is to say, inefficiently and roundabout.
    “Heard about the hoo-ha at the lake yesterday. Damn shame. Do they know who the young man you found in the ice was?”
    The waitress set my coffee mug down and poured me a steaming cup. The rich smell comforted me instantly. I studied Chuck covertly as I mixed in the cream and two sugars. Previously, I’d only met him in passing when dealing with his son at the law firm. I knew he came from a farm background and was the first in his family to attend college. By all accounts, he’d worked hard for everything he had, and he was well-liked around town. Even so, there was something crafty in his eyes that put me on guard. “They think he was a transient.”
    Chuck rubbed his chin. “Been a lot of fly-by-nighters around Battle Lake lately, it seems. It used to be that I recognized everyone in town in the winter. Now, I can’t go to Larry’s without running into at least five strangers, some of whom look like they’re from the rough side of the tracks. Do they think that drugs were involved?”
    I sipped the coffee. The creamy, sweet liquid poured down my throat, sending shivers of satisfaction to my fingertips. “No idea.” I took another sip and watched him. Would he be disappointed that I couldn’t tell him more? If so, tough noogies. I wasn’t on the clock. Yet.
    He shrugged, glancing back toward the pie cooler. The waitress was pulling out two pies that had been baked fresh that morning, no doubt. The apple pie was unbroken, the lattice work crust on the top drizzled with thick ropes of homemade caramel. A little bit of drool ran out of my mouth, and I wiped at it, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
    “Well,” he said, pulling his attention back to me. “It’s a sad business, but not why I asked you here. What can you tell me about Eric Offerdahl?”
    “Never heard of him,