One
The shiny, black, souped-up pickup truck came roaring into my parking lot much too fast.
That speed meant trouble.
Especially given whose truck it was.
"Uh oh." Lucy Grande sat up, taking her feet off the porch railing, her newly mixed margarita still in her hand. "This can't be good."
"Maybe she's just thirsty." But as the tires skidded through the gravel, whipping the truck sideways, I had a bad feeling.
Hattie Lawless, a seventy-something ex-race car driver, chef extraordinaire, and third member of our trio, was supposed to meet me and Lucy at my lakeside marina for evening drinks, because I had an announcement the two of them weren't going to like.
Hattie was late, but the sassy senior of an undisclosed age didn't care if anyone was annoyed by how she chose to live her life. She wouldn't be rushing for us, or for the gorgeous sunset she'd missed by two hours.
She might be driving fast just for the fun of it, but she always took care of her truck, and the way it was spinning out was not her usual maniac style.
It was reckless, and she was never reckless with her precious pickup. Reckless in life? Yeah, maybe. Crazy, bold, irreverent, loyal, and unstoppable? Always.
But when the bumper of her truck hit the side of my deck with a crash, I knew something was up.
My purloined, massive Maine coon cat, King Tut, hopped up on the deck railing, his tail switching with irritation as the dust flew up, cloaking all of us in a cloud of dirt.
"This is it," Lucy said, watching as the driver's door flew open. "Hattie has murdered someone, and she's a fugitive on the run. Do we go with her or not? I don't want a life on the run, but could we really leave her to fend for herself?"
I put my drink down and stood up. "You mean, leave the world to fend for itself with Hattie on a rampage?"
"Good point. We'd need to protect the innocents."
"Mia! Lucy!" Hattie leapt out of the truck, her fuchsia hair glittering in the glow from the spotlight that lit up my parking lot. The overly bright lights were mostly to discourage assassins from sneaking up on me while I was sleeping. But also handy for moments like this. "We have a situation!"
"Of course we do," Lucy said, not quite able to keep the amusement out of her voice.
Hattie always had a situation. That was part of what my announcement was about.
I leaned on the railing. "What's going on?"
"And you're late," Lucy said. "I've been dying to hear Mia's big announcement, and she wouldn't spill without you here."
Hattie hurried toward the deck stairs, moving faster than she usually did. She was wearing pink jeans that matched her hair, a turquoise Hattie's Café T-shirt, and pink and blue running shoes. She kind of looked like she'd been possessed by a cotton candy machine, which wasn't surprising. Hattie was never predictable, but the urgency spilling off her right now was alarming. "I need to show you guys something."
My smile faded. "If it's a body, I'm not coming. That's what my announcement was. No more bodies. No more murders. It's hurting my business, and I can't do it anymore."
"No more bodies?" Lucy grinned at me, not remotely upset by my grand declaration. "That's ridiculous. You're the Corpse Whisperer. Bodies find you. The only way not to have any more bodies would be if you were dead, and then there'd still be a body."
"I'm serious. I'm retiring from hunting down murderers."
Hattie reached the top step. "No."
I sighed. I was a little sad about my announcement, but I didn't see any other way to handle what was happening. "Yes."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "You love it. We have such fun together. Why would you deprive yourself of something that gives you joy, friendship, and adventure?"
She wasn't wrong, but I had to ignore that fact. "My business is losing customers because every situation we get involved in winds up making my reputation worse, not better."
Lucy's face softened in understanding. "I have heard some people talking. Small town gossip does fly around."
"Right? I love this town. I need it to love me."