Taking
over the police chief’s job in her hometown should have been easy for Callie
Johnson. At least that's what she thought. After working in a big city, small town crime would be a breeze. What a surprise when she arrives to find her
grandmother, the judge, accused of murder. As if that wasn't enough she’s
attacked while walking to her car. Between criminal investigations, her nutty
family’s antics and her Aunt Beatrice Lulu's matchmaking, Callie definitely has her work cut out for her. Will her grandmother be exonerated? Can Callie ward off her aunt’s unsuitable
suitors? What other surprises are in store for her? More importantly, can she find the person who attacked her?
EXCERPT:
Usually Callie
enjoyed dinner with her grandmother. The judge never ceased to amaze her. She
kept a busy schedule, yet still managed to keep house and entertain regularly.
Where or how she found the time to clean, cook, and bake was beyond Callie.
Lately, though, Gram had been getting on Callie’s case almost as bad as her
mother and sister about getting married.
She pulled into
Gram’s drive and groaned. Not only would she have to deal with her grandmother,
mother, and sister, Aunt Beatrice Lulu was here. Not her favorite person. She
eased out of the car. May as well face the music.
Callie’s
grandmother greeted her at the door. “How’s the new Police Chief?” Gram’s smile
beamed with pride. One thing she’d give Gram credit for, she was proud of her
children and grandchildren.
“I’m doing
well.” Callie hugged and kissed her. “How are you?”
“Ah, you know
how it is. Busy. Jim Landry thinks I should retire.”
“Maybe you
should. Take life easy. You've certainly earned it.” Callie suppressed a grin.
Truth be known, Jim Landry was sweet on Gram.
“And just what
would I do with my time?” Gram put her hands on her hips and frowned at Callie.
“You young people think everything is solved by retiring.”
“Well, you could
travel. Or you could spend more time with Jim.”
Gram waved her
hand, but Callie caught the blush on her cheeks before she turned away. “Posh.
What makes you think I need to spend more time with Jim?”
“Well you’re always telling me I should get
married. Maybe you should consider it.”
“I was married,
remember? And to a very good man. No way could I replace him. Get married, the
very idea.”
“Gramps has been
gone a long time, Gram. And Jim’s every bit as good. He’s sweet on you, you
know.”
Commotion from
the other room saved Gram from answering. Callie followed her into the living
room.
Aunt Beatrice
Lulu sat in the middle of the floor. Everyone stared open mouthed, looking
scared to speak.
“What in the
hell are you doing on the floor?” Gram covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
“Are you okay? Do I need to call 911?”
“No. You don’t
need to call 911. Help me up, for God’s sake.”
“What the hell
are you doing on the floor to begin with?”
“I fell. What
does it look like?” Aunt Beatrice Lulu took the hand Gram offered.
“I can see that.
But what happened?”
At that moment,
Aunt Beatrice Lulu spotted Callie. Oh boy, here it came. Her nasally voice
grated on Callie’s nerves. Okay, it wasn't her fault, adenoids or something
caused it, but it was still annoying. Sometimes Callie thought her aunt exaggerated
it. Maybe she didn't, but right now it sounded worse than usual, and Callie
wasn't in the mood to listen to her, even if she sounded normal.
Why couldn't
everyone just let her live her life? What made them think they could tell her
what to do? Aunt Beatrice Lulu wasn't the only one. Oh no, Callie’s mother, her
sister, heck even Jim Landry weighed in on what she should do with her life or
what man she should meet. Everyone was always setting her up with blind dates.
Beatrice Lulu.
What kind of name was that anyway? And don’t anyone dare shorten it to Aunt Bea
or Aunt Beatrice. Oh, no. It had to be the whole name, or everyone would catch
what for.
Callie
remembered when she was little-she called her Aunt Bea once. Wasn't that what
Opie Taylor on Andy Griffith reruns called his aunt? Callie thought it was cute.
Lord above, you’d of thought she’d put a curse on her aunt or something. She
thought she’d never hear the end of it.
That woman
ranted and raved for almost an hour about how her name was Beatrice Lulu, not
Bea, not Beatrice. It was the name she was born with, the name she was
christened, and the name she’d die with. It’s the name she expected people to
use. Obviously she was proud of her name, but did she have to go on so? Callie
never made that mistake again. No, ma’am. From then on she used her whole name
and so did everyone else. All except Uncle Ed, that is.
Callie would
never forget when her aunt met Uncle Ed. She about fell out of her chair
laughing. Aunt Beatrice Lulu stood there staring at him like she wanted to bash
him over the head or something.
Uncle Ed is a
big man. Big--like six feet six or more.
Most people are overwhelmed by his height. A giant of a man, he towered over
everyone and his shoulders, lord above, they were almost as wide as the
doorway. And he had this loud, bellowing voice that vibrated off the walls and
back at you. His black curly hair fell in a curl on his forehead, and bushy
dark eyebrows sat above the roundest, darkest blue eyes Callie’d ever seen. His
straight nose, mustache, square jaw, and creases at the corner of his eyes, as
well as his tan, gave him a rugged appearance. Sexy. Ruggedly handsome. Magnum
PI or the Marlboro Man.
Aunt Beatrice
Lulu didn't look impressed. Not that Uncle Ed noticed. He just walked right up
to her. “Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?” he said. “Bet you got a
pretty name to match.”
Callie’d never
heard anyone refer to her aunt as pretty before. Or little. Nothing about her
aunt was little. Okay, she wasn't huge, but suffice to say she had some added
bulk. Nothing Callie’d call pretty about her. Aunt Beatrice Lulu’s nose was too
big for her face, her lips too small, and her squinty dark brown, almost black,
eyes looked beady at best. She pulled her mousy brown hair so tight into a bun
on top of her head-Callie swore it pulled every wrinkle out of her face. She
usually sat with her arms crossed over her ample bosom and resting on her
paunchy stomach. Nope, nothing pretty about her. Portly, but not pretty. But
obviously, Uncle Ed thought differently.
He stood there,
admiring her, and she continued to glare at him. “Well, sweetheart, do you have
a name or not?”
“I do, and it’s
definitely not sweetheart.” She harrumphed and turned away, looking at everyone
and everything but him.
Uncle Ed wasn't
going to be put off. Oh no, not him. He put his big hands on her shoulders and
turned her right back around to face him. “Now, why you wanna be rude like
that? I just asked your name.”
The room grew
deathly quiet. Everyone focused on Aunt Beatrice Lulu and held their breath,
Callie included. No one talked to her aunt that way, and they sure as heck
didn't touch her. She just stood there. Speechless. Callie’d never seen the
woman speechless before.
“You going to
tell me your name, or do I got to ask these other folks?”
“Beatrice Lulu.”
Her mouth curved upwards in a slight smile. Aunt Beatrice Lulu hardly ever
smiled. “Beatrice Lulu Roberts.”
“Well, now Bea,
was that so hard?” He moved his left hand to her check and stroked it.
Aunt Beatrice
Lulu flinched from the touch. “I said my name is Beatrice Lulu, not Bea.”
Uncle Ed let out
a big hardy laugh. “Ain’t nobody called by their full name these days. What you
think people got time to say Beatrice Lulu?” he dragged out the last syllable
and slid his finger along her cheek toward her lips. “You think people got
nothing better to do or talk about. They gotta waste time calling you by your
full name? My name’s Edgar Leroy Eberhardt, but do people call me that? Hell
no, they call me Eddie or Ed. And that’s what you can call me.”
Aunt Beatrice
Lulu pushed his hand away, planted her hands on her hips, and tapped her
foot.
Uh, oh, Callie
thought, here it comes.
“Well, Mr.
Eberhardt, if you don’t like calling me by my full name, fine. Don’t! Don’t
call me nothing. In fact, don’t talk to
me at all. Think I care? My name is Beatrice Lulu.” She started her rant. “It’s
the name I was born with…
Next think Callie
knew, Uncle Ed pulled her aunt against him and kissed her right on the lips.
The whole room let out a gasp. Callie thought she cursed. Someone said, oh hell.
Might well have been her. The shock of the moment sent everyone agape.
Finally, he
pulled away. Not that Aunt Beatrice Lulu resisted. Not once did she try to push
him away. Nope, in fact, she leaned into him and put her arms around him.
“Well, now,” he said. “How about you and I go get some dinner, Bea.”
Callie’d never
seen her aunt so flustered, let alone speechless. She just stood there staring
at him. Everyone held their breath waiting for her usual angry outburst.
“Oh, dear…” She
patted her hair as if it were out of place. “Where would you like to go, Ed?”
That was it. No
rant. No rave. Just complete surrender and off they went. That’s how their
relationship began. Not six months later, they married. Never thought they’d
see the day Aunt Beatrice Lulu met her match. Of course, Uncle Ed called her
Bea, but he was the only one allowed to call her that. She remained Beatrice
Lulu to everyone else.
“There’s someone
I want you to meet, Callie.”
“I don’t have
time to meet anyone, I’m too busy.”
“But, this one’s
different, Callie.”
As usual, Aunt
Beatrice Lulu found the perfect man. Right! Callie’d met those perfect men
before. Not one of them lived up to her aunt’s description, and not just
physically. Sincere, trustworthy, considerate. Ha, the first one turned out to
be a crook, the second was married, and the last one so egotistical he didn't
even like himself.