Monday Mystery Theater

THE CASE:

Hank walks into a bank and hands a teller a bag. The teller opens the bag, reads the note and smiles. Then she hands the note to a nearby bank guard. The guard draws his gun, points it toward Hank and approaches him. As Hank raises his hands, the guard immediately shoots and kills him. A few days later, a female clercial worker in a neighboring office building is charged with murder.

THE MYSTERY:

What did the note say and why was the murder committed?

THE CLUES:

1. Sometimes a surrender signals an attack.
2. Hank didn't know what he was doing.

THE ANSWER:

Think you know the answer? Fill in the comment to submit your guess. Winner receives a free Heartsong Presents Mystery!

Special Feature!

MISFORTUNE COOKIES
BY

LINDA KOZAR

WHEN EVEN THE FORTUNE COOKIES HINT AT CALAMITY AHEAD, WATCH OUT!
Best friends Sue Jan and Lovita run a beauty shop/boutique in the little West Texas town of Wachita. They share a passion for food and fun. But one day, over lunch in a Chinese restaurant, Lovita opens a fortune cookie with a sinister message: “Your father was murdered. . .” a clue that leads them to God, an international spy ring, and several devastatingly handsome strangers. A most unlikely pair of detectives, these girlfriends “comb” the countryside with style, sarcasm, and lots of Szechwan. This tale is like good take-out food—definitely worth bringing home.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Linda Kozar, author and speaker, is the recipient of the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Mentor of the Year Award, and four previous awards for writing. Her first fiction novel, Misfortune Cookies, will be released by Heartsong Presents--Mysteries in 2008, followed by two sequels in 2009. Also a book of devotions titled, Babes With A Beatitude, Howard Books, a division of Simon and Schuster, will release in 2009.

Linda works part-time at Lone Star Community College, Montgomery Campus as a Staff Facilitator for a magazine, The Global Pen, by and for ESOL students. She is the Co-Founder and Director of Words For The Journey Christian Writers Guild---South East Texas Region, in The Woodlands, Texas. She assumed a post as President of a new Chapter of the American Christian Fiction Writers ACFW in The Woodlands, "Writers On The Storm," in July of 2009. She also co-leads a women’s Bible Study, “Babes With A Beatitude,” at WoodsEdge Community Church and manages a ministry website by that name, and taught a previous women’s Bible Study, “Coffee, Tea and Thee,” for 14 years. She and her husband Michael, married for 19 years, have two lovely teen daughters, Katie and Lauren.

AND NOW AN EXCERPT FROM . . .MISFORTUNE COOKIES
"What's that?" she asked panicked and pointing upward.

We looked up through the windshield at a pointy black cloud in the distance. The tip of it began to rotate in a graceful pirouette.

"Uh-oh," I gasped.

Sue Jan held my shoulder in a bear trap grip. "We're gonna die Ita! That's a funnel cloud, a baby tornado coming down. Then its gonna get big and nasty and carry us away and there won't be enough left of us to pick up in a vacuum cleaner and I'll never have my date with Hans. Never."

It was strangely dark outside. The sky tinged with green. And quiet all of a sudden. No birds singing or crickets chirping. Even the leaves in the trees were still. I screeched the car to a halt by the back door. I don't even know how we got out, but in a flash we were inside tripping over chairs, spilling vases and dishes, and grabbing Sue Jan's four fat cats on our way down to daddy's fallout shelter. My daddy built it in the fifties, when everybody was scared of an atomic bomb going off. So he built our very own shelter right under the house.

I had to admit, the whole thing was pretty clever. Daddy built a secret hinged shelf inside our walk-in kitchen pantry. Behind that was a stairway full of cobwebs that led down to the airlock door, made of super thick steel. Four people could live and sleep real comfortable for a couple of weeks. It was fully stocked with food. Medical supplies too. And an air filter was supposed to protect us from breathing radioactive air. Daddy tried to think of everything.

Not many people knew about it of course. It's not the sort of thing you're supposed to advertise. You don't want everybody showing up at your shelter door wanting in. I know he was worried. That's why he built it, out of love for us. He didn't want me and Mama turning mutant or anything.

Once the door was closed and the airlock turned, everything was quiet, except for the cats who were mee-owing, all nervous-like and looking for somewhere to hide. We were snug inside. That was certain.

The overhead industrial lights went dim all of a sudden. I had 'em set on low to conserve power, but the storm was affecting things. A quick flip of a switch fixed that.

"Hey, thanks for turning the lights up." Sue Jan turned around surveying the place though she had visited the shelter a gazillion times before. "This is like a fifties museum. Even the shampoo and toothpaste, the combs and shaving cream is all from then." She held up a tube. "They don't even make this brand anymore." She drew in an excited breath. "Lovita, you could charge admission! Why didn't I think of that before? Think of the extra bucks you could make showing people a real live atomic bomb shelter right here in Wachita. What do you think?"

Hands on my hips like a sugar bowl, I scrunched up my nose in disapproval. "We have a few other things to worry about right now Sue Jan-like a tornado out there scouring through town, maybe even through this house."

I turned on the emergency radio. A siren immediately sounded. The towns of Wachita, Bentley and Dayton till 5 o'clock central standard time…WARNING…WARNING…A TORNADO SIGHTING HAS BEEN CONFIRMED IN THE TOWNS OF BENTLEY AND WACHITA…RESIDENTS ARE ADVISED TO TAKE COVER IMMEDIATELY…Sue Jan reached over to switch it off.

"Hey, why'd you do that?"

"We've heard enough Lovita. We've seen the twister ourselves. It's probably tearing off pieces of your house like cotton candy right now. She sniffed. Into itty bitty pieces. Yup."

"Thank you for that."

She sniffed again. "Well, at least we're safe. And the kittycats." She reached down to pet Vicki-Lou, the fattest of the four kitties and clearly the Alpha Kitty. Jealous, Kitty-Mingus, our silver Persian fell on her back purring for a tummy rub. "Aww, don't you widdle kitties worry; we'll be 'otay.

Suppose your Daddy hadn't built this place Lovita. We'd be in trouble--probably in the air spinning around like the inside of a washing machine. Hey, you got any food in here?"

"Oh Sue Jan, you know we didn't have any time to grab some food on our way down-"

I wished we had. There was some leftover chicken-fried steak and butter beans in the fridge and some popovers from the night before. My stomach growled at the thought.

She pointed to a shelf. "Well, what's that stuff over there, then?"

"It's rations, you know fallout shelter rations, the kind that last for twenty, thirty years."

Sue Jan hopped up off the cot she was sitting on. She blew dust off a can. "Hey, this looks like peaches in syrup. I love peaches."

"Now wait a minute Sue Jan…those are special rations for…just in case anything were to happen." I grabbed at the can.

"Well, I have news for you," she tugged back, "something is happening out there and I'm not gonna die hungry when I have this can of dee-lishus peaches right here in my hands." She plopped down on a cot, arms clutching the can

"Oh, all right then." I gave up, too tired to fight.

"Where's your atomic can opener, Lovita?" She winked.

I smirked back and reached for one on a shelf above the cot opposite hers.

"Ugh!" The can opener slipped from my hands and fell to the floor out of sight. A sigh escaped as I creaked down on bended knee to look for it.

Sue Jan made a few motions like she was going to help, but there's no way she was going to let go of that can of peaches.

To read more of MISFORTUNE COOKIE be sure to subscribe to:
Heartsong Presents: Mysteries!

Fun Friday

This week, Spyglass Lane is showcasing Pedigreed Bloodlines by Sandra Robbins. For more on The Leigh Dennison Mysteries, check out her website!

Mystery Door

Thursdays are Mystery Door days! Choose a door. A surprise is waiting for you!

ANOTHER MYSTERY AUTHOR!

Once again, Brenda guessed the correct author last week! She wins a copy of MISS AGGIE'S GONE MISSING by Frances Devine.

Here's another chance to win a great cozy mystery by a Heartsong author. Leave a comment along with your e-mail address. I will draw a winner from the correct answers. And please spread the word about Mystery Author! We need more people to play our game!

Here is this week's Mystery Author:

Welcome, Mystery Author! What part of the country are you from?

I live in Arizona now, but grew up in the Arkansas Ozark mountain foothills.

How many children do you have?

7. His, mine, and ours.

Besides your "author side," you have another job. What is it?

Detention Monitor at the local school.

You work with a truly wonderful woman (and fellow Heartsong author) on an interview/review site. What's the name of this site?

Mainly Mystery Reviews

What is the first name the main character in your Heartsong mystery novel?

Summer

Thanks, Mystery Author!

Put your guessing caps on and see if you can name this week's mystery author!

Short Story Mystery

If the Shoe Fits

By

Susan Page Davis

Part 1

Faye’s car was in a dim, distant corner of the airport parking garage, and she looked around carefully as she approached it. There weren’t many people in the garage now, but diagonally across the aisle a man was standing at the back of a beige sedan, putting something in the open trunk. Faye glanced at him, then stared. She could swear the shoe he pushed into the trunk had a foot in it.

He looked up, and she forced herself to keep walking without breaking into a sprint. As she put her key into the lock, she risked a glance over her shoulder. Big mistake. The man was staring, and their eyes met for an instant.

Faye yanked the door open and jumped in. She threw the transmission into reverse and backed out a bit more quickly than she had intended. In her mirror she saw the man watching her as he slammed the trunk lid.

Her heart hammered. She shoved the gearshift down, and her Toyota roared out of the garage.

“I’ll tell the parking attendant,” she thought. In her mirror she saw the beige sedan speed out of the garage. She hesitated, then swerved into the next aisle of the lot. She didn’t want to get caught in the line of cars at the gate with the sinister man behind her.

There were thousands of cars here, and it was quite dark. She drove quickly to the end of the row and turned left, not caring where she went, as long as the man in the beige car couldn’t see her if he looked down that aisle.

She turned again, right this time, at a gap midway down the long lane, then right again in the next row and shut her lights off. How long could she avoid her pursuer? Would he give up eventually and leave the lot?

She spotted an empty space and nosed her car in, then shut off the engine. The doors were locked, and she lay down on the seat, breathing in shallow gasps.

She fumbled for her cell phone. Maybe she should have kept moving, but light and movement would draw his eye at this time of night. Oh, where was the stupid phone?

Her fingers closed on it. “I’m in the airport parking lot, in my car. A man followed me from the parking garage in a beige sedan, and I’m hiding from him. He’s looking for me. Can you get airport security out here?”

“Calm down, ma’am. Speak slowly, please. What is your location?”

Faye risked peeking up over the back of the seat. A vehicle was crawling slowly along the aisle. She ducked down again. “Please send security to the parking lot. Someone is stalking me. I think the car is a Lincoln. It’s beige.”

“Which part of the lot are you in, ma’am?”

She raised her head as high as she dared. “Section D. Hurry! I have a blue Toyota Tercel.” The beige car was suddenly even with her parking space, and the driver was craning his neck, looking around. Faye scrunched down again. “He has roof racks.”

She huddled on the seat for several minutes. Suddenly someone knocked on her window and she jumped, terrified.

.

Stay tuned next week for Part 2 of If the Shoe Fits.

.

FOR DISCUSSION: Have you ever wandered through a deserted parking garage? What would you have done in Faye's situation?

Monday Mystery Theater

THE CASE:

A man lies dead on a track. Near his body is a shard of glass.

THE MYSTERY:

Who murdered the man, and how?

THE CLUES:

1. Tracks can be tricky, depending on how you look at them.
2. Upon reflection, the driver should have seen the problem.

THE ANSWER:

Think you know the answer? Fill in the comment box to submit your guess. Winner receives a free Heartsong Presents Mystery!