Woodman darted forward and grabbed Chelsey, snatching the gun from his hand. Woodman aimed it at Chelsey’s men. Again, he spoke a little too loudly to just be speaking to us. “I hereby arrest you and these men for the murder of…uh, Arneson—”
“Ansen,” I said.
“Ansen.” Woodman pointed to three of the onlookers. “Help me with them.”
Three big men grunted as they forced Chelsey and his group into the jail. The rest of the bystanders lost interest and began to disperse. I couldn’t believe that worked. I would have loved to jump on one of the horses and ride back to Port Bass like nothing had happened but my legs wouldn’t move. Pretending to wait for Jasper to perk up, I steeled myself against the realization that we’d just saved ourselves from an unjust death.
When feeling returned to my extremities, I yanked on Jasper’s arm. “Come on, old man. If we hurry, we can make it back before Joe knows we’re missing.”
That sparked some life into the old goat. “Joe would finish what Chelsey started.”
“Yeah. Let’s tell him you almost got me killed but said you’d watch our kids in return.”
He blinked at me. “You can’t tell him that!”
I nodded toward Chelsey’s horses. “We’ve got maybe ten minutes before that so-called lawman comes out here to bed these horses.”
“You want us to steal them?” Jasper clawed at his collar. “After we just escaped a hanging?”
I moved to the horses not attached to the wagon with that coffin. “We have about fifteen minutes before he realizes he was taken for a sap and decides to hang us after all. Does it really matter what you’re hung for?”
Laughter spilled from the inn across the street and Jasper flinched. “Fine, let’s get out of here.”
It always fascinated me, watching a man with a peg leg ride a horse, but Jasper took it to new levels. Jumping on the animal without adjusting the stirrups, he took off before I’d mounted the one next to him. About an hour later, we climbed off our stolen horses and fiddled with the equipment. After I’d adjusted the stirrups, I glanced over at Jasper. “What have you got there?”
He hunched his shoulders in the guiltiest manner I’d ever seen. “Nothing.”
I swung my leg over the saddle. “You might as well tell me what else you’ve pilfered. As far as I’m concerned, we earned the horses and anything attached to them. Port Bass is far enough away from Rock Grove that we could get away with it. Chelsey brought us here and he owes us a ride back. Besides, it’s not like anyone’ll be able to claim the animals.”
“Ella! I’m surprised at you. I thought you turned good now that you worked for the government. Stealing horses and saddles and the contents of saddlebags, what’s become of you?”
He had a point. I’d have to report the matter so agents could be dispatched to Rock Grove and make sure the sheriff kept Chelsey and his men in jail. They’d also have to arrange for a trial. Jasper and I would be called to court. It might come out that we disappeared at the same time two horses went missing. “All right, we’ll have to sell them in Willow’s Way. We’ll get home, ready our own horses and then bring these two to Edmond. He owes me more favors than a man could pay in three lifetimes.”
“We could just turn them loose.”
He was testing me and I didn’t like it. “We have a duty to make sure they’re safe, Jasper. We might as well be compensated for it. You have a problem with that?”
He grinned at me.
That was when it hit me, why Jasper picked the horse he had and why he’d run so fast. Chelsey was a well-known bank robber. “How much money is in those saddlebags, Jasper?”
“I will neither confirm nor deny—”
“I’ll tell Joe.”
“$4,785.32. Give or take.”
I mulled it over. “We have to give it back.”
He flashed me an evil look.
“We can’t be greedy, Jasper. Besides, just think how it would improve your reputation with all the government agents assigned to follow you.”
“The only government agent that follows me anywhere is you.”
What a sickening thought. It was true, though, now that he mentioned it…I hadn’t heard as many reports on Jasper since I’d married his son.
“Giving money back would do nothing for my reputation in…shall we say, other circles?”
“Oh, you could twist it to your advantage. Pulling one over on the law. Making everyone wonder what you’re really up to.”
“It would baffle everyone.”
“Confusion would reign. You like that.”
“I do like that.”
I rode in silence as Jasper came up with possibilities as to why he would turn in over $4,500, each story more ridiculous than the last. I let my mind wander. What would I tell Joe this evening? He’d know I was out and not on an assignment, though I should have been. He always checked in with the office, as I did on him.
That evening, Joe cornered me in the parlor. “Ella, what did you get up to today?”
“Up to?”
“Matilda said you never came in. Nobody could find you. Guess who else went missing?”
“I didn’t go missing, Joe.”
“My father.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me, more challenging than angry. So far.
I waved a hand. “Jasper and I went for a ride. We met up with some old friends and it took a lot longer than I’d expected. That’s all.”
“Oh, really?” Joe shook his head, almost like he was disappointed with me. “Ella, I expected better from you.”
Did he mean a better day or a better lie?
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded.
“That is the truth.”
“Then tell me the rest.”
“What are you talking about?” I would have loved to get Jasper in trouble but the old man would take me down with him. Back in the coffin, I’d forgotten about his wooden leg. It had only been for a couple of seconds, but Joe would use that to argue I was slipping and should find other work.
“My father is going around town telling everyone that he single-handedly caught a bank robber.”
“I wasn’t with him when he did that.”
“Of course you weren’t. So where’d he get the money, huh? He returned $3,000 to the Green Bay Bank.”
“$3,000?” That cheat!
“Yeah. You two disappear and he comes back a Good Samaritan? Returning money? To a bank? So what really happened today?” He fixed his steely gaze on me.
“Well, I didn’t want to worry you. We did go for a ride. He wanted to talk to me about starting a family. You know, having children.”
“Did you mention that you’re married to me?”
“Not with him, Joe.” I slapped him playfully on the arm but he didn’t respond, didn’t move a single muscle. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Anyway, we came across these horses with saddlebags of money. We identified who they belonged to by other items on the horses and then your father hit his head on a rock.”
Joe’s face softened. “He what?”
“Slammed.” I touched the back of my head. “Right there. Knocked himself right out. He woke up talking about good and law, and he insisted we return the money to its rightful owners.”
Joe rocked back on his heels. “I had no idea. Do you think he should see a doctor?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” I nodded emphatically. “I’ll take him tomorrow. It’s probably only a temporary reaction. He’ll wake up in the morning and be his old self.”
“Let’s hope so.”
I waited for Joe to saunter from the room and then I ran to the front door, determined to find that old pirate and bash him over the head before I was caught in yet another lie.
THE END
Do you need more Ella in your life? Of course you do!
Check out the Ella Westin Mystery Series:
Married To Murder #1
Three hours before my wedding, I have to prove my groom didn’t commit
murder.
Is it too late to elope?
https://jenniferoberth.com/marriedtomurder
Honeymoon Homicide #2
My husband wants me to solve a murder at 4am.
Is it too late to get separate rooms?
https://jenniferoberth.com/honeymoonhomicide
Toxic Train #3
A passenger is poisoned and it’s up to me to find the killer.
Is it too late to miss the train?
https://jenniferoberth.com/toxictrain
Unpacking the Undertaker #4 (Coming 2015)
I’m back from my honeymoon and moving into my new home. I unpacked a particularly heavy crate and got a nasty shock. All I wanted to do was put my books on the bookshelf.
Is it too late to close the crate and send it back?
https://jenniferoberth.com/unpacking-the-undertaker/
Queen’s Quest #5 (Coming 2015)
After investigating a supposedly haunted house, I find myself in the midst of a plot to rob the Port Bass Museum.
Is it too late to abdicate?
https://jenniferoberth.com/queens-quest/
Bury the Boss #6 (Coming in 2015)
I’m back at work and my boss is convinced someone is trying to kill him. He orders me to find out who—but won’t let me leave his side. Now I’m the boss’s babysitter.
Is it too late to call in sick?
https://jenniferoberth.com/bury-the-boss
Married To Murder #1 - Excerpt
6,214 words
Married To Murder
Name: Ella Westin, despite interference from everyone
Date of Incident: October 1, 1827
Location: Port Bass, Maine, New England
Supervisor: Agent Arthur Brown
Report filed: For Your Eyes Only
Incident: Murder
I tripped over Mrs. Anita Bonavant in my new shoes, imported from England and as expensive as a bejeweled Spanish saber. A woman is supposed to look presentable on her wedding day, though why fancy shoes from another country are paramount I’ll never understand. They make the dress so long you trip over the hem in those new never-to-be-seen shoes anyway.
How inconsiderate to die on my wedding day. She knew this meant more to me than anything, so she ended up murdered under my brand new shoes. She’s lucky I didn’t get blood on them or I’d find one of those voodoo priestesses from New Orleans and bring Bonavant back to life so I could stab her in the back with my own knife instead of the white-handled, ruby-encrusted dagger someone else used.
As I’ve been trained to do, I studied the room. I found a short cigar, an overturned bottle of French perfume and blue flowers dropping from the bun in her soaked hair. I picked up every petal for later use.
There was a large armoire in one corner, empty. No clothes, no shoes (expensive, imported or otherwise). I considered hiding Bonavant’s body inside until after my wedding, but Agent Brown tells me I can’t tamper with evidence. No, taking every last blue flower from the body doesn’t count. They are part of my wedding, not evidence in a crime.
Agent Brown also tells me how dry and boring my reports are, hence the intricate details and colorful impressions I’ll continue to add throughout. I’ll state evidence and interrogations, word for word, even though they all point to my groom as murderer.
Despite its being the morning of my wedding and Joseph Westin’s knife sticking out of the back of my matron of honor, I didn’t corrupt the evidence, though I feel I’d have been well within my rights. I even left one of Joe’s sweet-smelling cigars where I’d found it lying next to her body.
Why on earth the murderer had to smash my German chocolate wedding cake, with blue flowers affixed down the sides, over Anita’s corpse, I couldn’t guess. Exquisitely filled with vanilla and topped with yellow frosting, the pastry had been stuffed in Anita’s mouth in a gruesome display. I took those flowers, too, as they were also a part of my wedding and not the crime.
When Agent Brown found me baking instead of investigating Anita Bonavant’s murder, a string of expletives I shan’t write down flowed from his mouth, much as the French perfume had flowed over Anita’s hair.
"Ella, what are you doing?"
I stood in Anita’s messy kitchen, mixing flour, water and other ingredients necessary to make a dessert befitting my wedding. "Baking a cake."
Agent Brown, my superior with the black mustache, large pumpkin head and ill-fitting blue suit with too-wide lapels, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. "There’s a body through there."
"Yes, I know." I stirred with vigor.
"But…why…you’re in…what—"
I couldn’t stand another splatter, from my boss or the batter, so I pointed to a cake pan. He retrieved it without thinking. "It’s just my matron of honor. No one’ll notice she’s missing at the wedding."
"You can’t get married. I’m assigning you to the case."
"Since when?"
"Since I tripped over her body in the living room."
"I’m on vacation, Agent Brown."
"You were first to the scene."
"It’s my wedding day."
"You have to fill out a report."
"I’m going on my honeymoon tonight." I poured the batter into the pan and shoved it in the oven.
"Not if you don’t figure this out."
I glared as Agent Brown studied the large kitchen; the new oven shipped from Chicago, the pots hanging from nails on the wall, a lot of counter space and much evidence of a messy baker having made a cake. It was a wealthy kitchen. I was the messy baker but no one needed to know that. I’m not the most adept at baking, although I do enjoy it. If I wasn’t a working woman, called to action by my government, I’d have been a baker. I often wish my cover was running a pie shop, but the world at large knew me as a secretary. Not that I had many connections outside the job, which could explain why I was marrying inside it. Solve a murder on my wedding day? That was going too far. "I’m getting married in three hours."
"Plenty of time for the famous Westins."
I wiped my hands on the apron I’d thrown over my wedding dress. "I’m not a Westin yet."
"You may not be at all. I saw the knife. I saw the cake Joe was supposed to pick up an hour ago. The perfume, we can guess, was for the purpose of covering up the odor of this." He held up the sweet-smelling cigar. Joe’s brand.
We heard an "oomph" in the living room. Seconds later, Joe stumbled into the kitchen.
Agent Brown folded his arms over his chest. "I told Agent Lanten to keep everyone out, including himself."
"There’s a body out there," Joe informed us, looking rather disheveled.
I couldn’t tell if his unkempt appearance was physical or more of a mental reaction. I saw no wrinkles in his gray trousers or white shirt, but his hair stuck up on its ends. Confusion and a little panic shone from his usually open face. I would attribute that more to me than the body, as he’s quite used to bodies but not so used to me despite our upcoming nuptials. I shrugged off the apron and retrieved my coat. "Boss, take that cake out in one hour, let it cool and frost it with that yellow frosting over there and by God you’d better not burn or drop it." Grabbing Joe’s arm, I led him out of the house. I would attach the blue flowers myself at the church if I could find clean ones. Otherwise, no one but Anita knew I’d meant to have them on the cake, so no one would miss that particular decoration.
"What about Mrs. Bonavant?"
"We have three hours to prove you didn’t kill her, or by all that is holy, I will make myself a widow before I’m married."
Joe held my arm like a gentleman but stopped me in my tracks. "Were you baking a cake with a body in the other room?" He was working himself into a frenzy. And I thought Agent Brown’s reaction was unrecordable.
I really should have stuffed her in the armoire.
End of Excerpt
Married To Murder - available at retailers everywhere.
What Others Are Saying About Marri
ed To Murder:
"Jennifer Oberth's Married To Murder is a fresh and quirky new addition to the cozy historical mystery scene. Ella Westin is a witty and determined sleuth and Oberth's writing is wonderfully comedic."
-Jamie Freveletti, author of Running From the Devil, winner of the Lovey Award & 'Best First Novel' by the International Thriller Writers & Barry Award for 'Best Thriller'.
"Married to Murder is a fun whodunit with snappy dialogue and a tongue-in-cheek delivery of the plot. Mystery readers should enjoy this story - I know I did."
-Evelyn David, author of the Sullivan Investigations Mysteries
“This is such a fun story to read and I laughed out loud throughout! Less than 20 pages long (in the e-pub version) I was able to read it while my 2 year old slept and by the end of it had me wanting to read more stories with Ella and her friends. As it is a short mystery the story moves quickly, but the writing is sharp and flows well. The twist in the end surprised me and as a novice sleuth, that does not happen very often, which was very impressive! I highly recommend this story and I am sure Jennifer’s other stories are just as enjoyable.”
-Jennifer Alexander, Mommy’s Reading Too Blog
“With tongue firmly in cheek, Ella runs her wedding day, a murder investigation, and everyone else she comes in contact with. As well as being funny, the story offers a good mystery puzzle which isn’t always easy in a short story. I think we’ll be seeing more of Ella.”
-Lisa Deckert
“With a smart, sassy heroine, there was no way I wasn’t going to like this story. Jennifer Oberth does a great job of developing the main character (which is not always the case with short stories). Additionally, the plot moves along quickly, the dialogue is realistic, and the mystery is, well, mysterious. Dontcha hate it when you figure out the end way before the character does? Fortunately, this story isn’t predictable or trite in any way. I enjoyed reading it and so will you if you enjoy mysteries, Mrs. Marple, or female law enforcement officials.”