Cozy Mystery, Eugeena Patterson Mysteries

Deep Fried Trouble, Eugeena Patterson Mysteries, Book 1

Deep Fried Trouble by Tyora Moody

Widowed and officially retired, EUGEENA PATTERSON throws herself into organizing the neighborhood association. This presents a great opportunity to re-connect with old friends and get to  know new neighbors like recently widowed Amos Jones, that is  until Eugeena stumbles upon her estranged neighbor’s dead body. Eugeena’s daughter is fingered as a prime suspect, but where is she?

Determined to find her missing daughter, Eugeena and Amos sort through a list of neighbors with shady or unknown backgrounds. The more she searches, the more Eugeena becomes unsure about this neighborhood association idea. Someone closer than Eugeena thinks, wants to keep it that way.

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From Chapter 1…

At the top of the hill, a white house came into view. Despite the weathered exterior, it still looked beautiful, surrounded by the oaks and magnolia trees.

I used to visit the occupant of the house, but we, that is Mary Fleming and I had long since parted ways. Our exchange was always awkward. I would wave hello and she’d wave back. We would display weak smiles. The kind of smile, where you barely showed any teeth or just let your mouth curve slightly upward. As soon as I passed her house, my steps seemed to grow more difficult the farther I walked away.

My chest heaved from having to climb that stupid hill. I thanked the Lord I’d reached the top.

I didn’t have long to rejoice about my victory when something ran alongside my line of vision. The brown and white blur not only romped next to me, but was barking its little head off too. I slowed down and looked over at Mary’s Corgi.

“Porgy.” Yes, Mary named that dog after the character from Porgy and Bess.  The name always seemed odd to me. The little noisemaker’s round tummy shook as he waddled beside me. He should have been named Porky instead. “What are you doing outside?”

One thing I knew about Mary, she guarded Porgy with her life. She’d never let that pooch out of her sight and he certainly wouldn’t have been in the front yard.

I peered through the fence a little closer. Something wasn’t right with Porgy’s fur. The normally well-groomed dog looked matted and just plain dirty. “Porgy, you been into some mud hole. Mary is going to have a fit.” I couldn’t keep walking. Besides, my legs were killing me.

This must have been a sign from the Lord. Mary and I had held onto our grudges long enough. It wouldn’t hurt to have a real conversation for a change. Amos and I weren’t the only widowed folks on this street. Poor Mary had lost not only her spouse, but her only child seven years ago in a horrible car accident. Sometimes I felt like the Lord was leading me to rekindle the friendship. I dealt with loneliness, but my children and grandchildren came to visit me. Poor Mary, she’d lost everyone dear to her and had become a bit of a hermit.

Porgy barked his little head off as I unlatched the white fence door. Yes, a white picket fence. This house had all the elements of a perfect home down to the wrap-around porch and shutters. Most houses down the hill had bits and pieces, but none of the houses, including mine, spoke grandness like Mary’s.

Once inside the fence, I followed the erratic dog around to the back. “Mary?” Around the side of the house, daylilies ranging from pink to yellow were in full bloom. The woman had always been a master gardener. I tried, but can’t say I had much of a green thumb.

This really felt strange. I hadn’t been in the Fleming’s backyard in years. Not much had changed. Same wrought iron furnishings with overstuffed green cushions. The big gas grill sat covered on the side. I remembered when Mary planted the hydrangeas and azaleas along the deck’s sides.

It was beautiful back there. Quiet.

Too quiet.

The boards of the deck creaked as I placed my weight on the steps. Since the blinds were pulled back, I could see clearly through the patio sliding door. I tapped the glass and shouted, “Mary, are you in there? Porgy is outside about to have a fit.”

The dog yapped, sounding more like a chimpanzee as he ran in circles. My goodness, poor little fellow. How long had Mary left him outside?

I cupped my hands to my face and peered inside. On the other side of the door, the kitchen sparkled. No. Really. I could see the shine from where I stood. Old Mary was somewhat of a neat freak and she loved her stainless steel appliances. I’d always thought she would’ve been perfect in a Mr. Clean commercial or something.

I shifted my eyes around the kitchen. I froze. Now mind you, a glass of water sitting on the counter shouldn’t produce alarm. For some reason, my mind recollected every tidbit I knew about my former friend. The Mary I knew wouldn’t just leave a glass sitting on her granite countertop. After you drank from it, you rinsed the glass and put it in the dishwasher. My own children were familiar with the routine whenever they visited the Fleming’s home.

Next to me, poor Porgy whimpered. I walked to the other glass door and again cupped my hand around my face.

“Sweet Jesus.” I stepped backwards.

Porgy yelped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to step on your tail.” I also wished I hadn’t seen what I saw.

The woman I once counted as a close friend lie on her kitchen floor. Her blank stare seemed to beg for help. Oh, but I couldn’t help her.

June 2013
Tymm Publishing LLC
ISBN-10: 0989415309
ISBN-13: 978-0-9894153-0-9

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