Free Silenced by the Yams (A Barbara Marr Murder Mystery #3) by Karen Cantwell

some pretty, I don’t know, exciting, dangerous predicaments. I thought if I could get the story on this one from the inside—you know, kind of like a war correspondent—I’d be able to hold my rank at the station.”
    Colt looked ready to kill. “Who knew that you were planning to meet Barb at the hot dog stand?”
    Guy shook his head. He looked confused. “I don’t know. My assistant, obviously . . .”
    “Anyone else? Anyone else know about this hair-brained scheme of yours?”
    “Sir, I take offense—”
    “You can take a flying leap for all I care—who else knew?”
    With a horribly defeated look on his hound dog face, Guy Mertz leaned back in the seat and began twirling his bushy eyebrows with his fingers. “Randolph Rutter,” he said finally.
    My head was spinning. A crazy kid claiming to have valuable information was now stalking me, a down-and-out news reporter wanted to shadow me in hopes of getting the news story of the century, and Colt was ready to pop a gasket over who knew about our meeting plans. What? Did he suspect that someone was trying to have me snuffed? That was plain silly. Who would want me killed? I’m a nice person. Relatively speaking.
    I was about to ask Colt where he was going with his line of questioning when my phone rang. I pulled it from the pocket in my shorts. Howard’s number showed on the caller ID. I took a deep breath and pressed talk. “Hi, Honey!” I said, chipper as a blue bird on a sunny morning.
    “Where are you?”
    Uh oh. I had to think back. What did I tell him I was doing? Certainly I hadn’t told him I was meeting with informants in Washington, DC. After a frantic rifle through my memories, I recalled my fib about Roz’s going-away party. Unfortunately, the pause was too long, and Howard answered his own question. “Smith told me you were in DC. At a drive-by shooting.”
    “Oh.”
    “That’s all you have to say—‘oh’?”
    “No. I was also going that say that it was nice of her to call you and tell you I was okay.”
    He didn’t respond right away, but I could easily picture him rolling his eyes. “Put Colt on the phone, would you?”
    Uncle Sam! That Agent Smith was such a tattle-tale. I handed Colt the phone.
    “How’s it hangin’ Howie?” Colt loved to tease Howard, but he became serious pretty darned quick. He nodded and frowned throughout what I assumed were Howard’s instructions to get me home, lock me in the house and throw away the keys. “Right,” he said finally. “I’m on it, Dude,” and he hung up.
    I wanted to ask him what Howard said, but my phone went off again almost instantly in his hands. “Oh, right—someone was calling while I was on the phone.” He glanced at the caller ID, then threw the phone toward me as if it was infected with the plague. “It’s your mom.”
    It was that kind of reaction to my mother that made it hard for me to keep friends when I was growing up. I clicked the talk button. “Mom?”
    “First, let me tell you, Alka is fine, but we’re at the hospital.”
    “What?”
    “She took a little tumble while trying a move at my new dance class. We’re just waiting to see a doctor.”
    “What happened?”
    “I thought I just told you what happened.”
    “Which hospital?”
    “Rustic Woods.”
    “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
    My phone beeped in my ear, telling me another call was coming in. I looked at the caller ID. Virginia Ham! It was my home phone. “Mom, I’ve gotta go. The girls are trying to reach me. Tell Mama Marr I’m coming.” I clicked over to the incoming call without waiting for my mother’s response. “Is everything okay?” I answered, skipping the ‘hello’ stuff altogether. My heart skipped a beat when I heard screaming in the background.
    “Mom,” said Bethany calmly. “We have a problem. Someone left Mama’s door open and we just found Indy and Mildred Pierce in there.”
    Bethany had a way with understatement.
    “Where’s the bird?” I