Free Death in Dahlonega (A Trixie Montgomery Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Deborah Malone Page A

going?”
    My mouth full, I pointed across the street. We headed in that direction, holding the flimsy plates steady as we savored our treats.
    The Dalton’s booth was easy to find. Another long line flowed into the street. Eating must be the main event at Gold Rush Days.
    “Looks like we might have to buy a sandwich, too.” I brushed my sticky mouth and threw the trash in a plastic-lined bin.
    “Yes, it does.” Dee Dee added, tossing her plate in, as well.
    As we approached the booth, I saw several people working inside. Two men and two women danced around each other as they filled orders. I wondered which one was Sueleigh.
    “Next!”
    “I’ll take two sandwiches and two Cokes, please.” As the man handed me our food, I asked which lady was Sueleigh.
    “Neither one. Sueleigh is my daughter. Why ya’ asking?” His words were clipped and his tone unfriendly.
    That would never do. I set on my reporter’s grin, and introduced myself. “I write for a historical magazine, and I want to interview her. Teresa Duncan, over at the Gold Museum, recommended I talk with Sueleigh about Gold Rush Days.” All right, we all stretch the truth at times. I prayed the end justified the means.
    “Teresa. Why didn’t ya’ say so?” A smile softened his gruff exterior. “Sueleigh is driving the horse carriage for me today. You can catch her over there.” He pointed to the square. I glanced at my shoe. Unfortunately, I was familiar with the horse carriage.
    “Thanks, thanks a lot.” I don’t think he heard me. He’d moved on to the next hungry customer. I turned around and bumped into Dee Dee.
    “I heard. I guess we’re on our way to the carriage ride?” She grabbed a Coke and took a long drink.
    “Let’s find somewhere to sit.” We sat in silence, on a bench facing the square. It was the perfect setting for people watching.
    I’m a firm believer that if your self-confidence is in danger of waning, you should go to the mall and people watch. God made humans in all different sizes, shapes, colors, and personalities. The bottom line is, we’re all pretty much made from the same pattern.
    “People watching again?” Dee Dee asked, slurping her drink.
    “Isn’t it odd how the Lord made people in all shapes and sizes?”
    We watched a family of four, one kid in braces, the second with a gap-toothed smile that showed he’d be next.
    “Ever notice how the beautiful people on television are never at the farmer’s markets?”
    “Or the mall.” Dee Dee nodded. “And their beauty has been enhanced, at that!”
    I agreed, having participated in this activity many times after my divorce. My self-esteem was then at an all time low. It had taken me a great deal of contemplation to realize he hadn’t strayed because of my looks or my self-esteem. He had strayed because of his own lack of self-esteem, disguised as an overblown ego. He still didn’t understand, and I wasn’t making any bets he ever would. That was okay. I’d discovered that I needed to spend my limited energy on me and let God take care of Wade.
    As I sat thinking, the clippity-clop of a horse pulling a carriage sounded behind us. We turned to see a stunning redhead high on the driver’s seat. She wasn’t alone. A man, who looked vaguely familiar, sat next to her.
    I poked Dee Dee in the ribs.
    “Ouch.” She rubbed her side. “What did you do that for?”
    “Look over there. See the man sitting next to the redhead?”
    “Sure. What’s so important about him you had to crack my rib?”
    “That looks like Leroy, Joyce’s nephew. What do you think he’s doing talking with Sueleigh Dalton? That guy gives me the creeps. I thought I was going to wet my pants when he snuck up on me last night.” I wadded up my sandwich wrapper and threw it in a nearby garbage can.
    “Don’t exaggerate, Trix. You said he was making his nightly rounds. It’s no wonder you were edgy last night after the horrible day we’d been through.”
    I knew she was trying her