Title: Liars & Lunatics in Goose Pimple Junction
Author: Amy Metz
Genre: Cozy mystery
Series: Goose Pimple Junction Mysteries, book 5
Publisher: Southern Ink Press
September 1, 2019 (paperback)
September 19, 2019 (Kindle)

Synopsis

It’s election season, and there’s a new candidate in town. Virgil Pepper is determined to take the job from Goose Pimple Junction’s long-time mayor. Virgil is a charming and charismatic candidate but someone who will say anything (and mean none of it) to get what he wants. Three things top his list: to become mayor, to acquire Jackson Wright’s land, and to make Caledonia Culpepper one of his many conquests.

Wynona Baxter is back, and she’s a new woman. Now Daisy has a new identity, new life, and new business-ironically named Killer Cupcakes. But the town soon finds out that isn’t the only kind of killer in town. Book five of the Goose Pimple Junction mystery series combines political hijinks, delicious cupcakes, Goose Juice moonshine, the ups and downs of finding true love, and, of course, murder.

It is said that “It’s a basic truth of the human condition that everybody lies. The only variable is about what.” Lying in politics, lying for personal and professional gain, lying about an identity . . . What are the folks of Goose Pimple Junction willing to lie for . . . and what are they willing to die for?

Excerpt

Prologue

He entered the territory of lies without a passport for return.

 –Graham Greene

Caledonia was resplendent in a hot pink sweater and black slacks as she walked into Slick & Junebug’s Diner after getting her boys, Pickle—a high school senior—off to work and Peanut—a sixth grader—off to a friend’s house. It was her habit to stop in every morning before she went to open up the dress shop she owned. Her day didn’t really get started until she’d had her morning gossip and cup of coffee. This morning, the place was buzzing. With a smile and a wave, she scooted past the regulars­—two old men, Clive and Earl—at their usual place at the counter and joined her best friend, Paprika Parker, in a window booth. They liked that spot so they could see what was going on in the town square while they drank their coffee and talked about town happenings.

Paprika could read Caledonia like a book. “What’s wrong?”

“No good morning? You’re just gonna jump right in?” Caledonia uprighted her coffee cup on its saucer.

“Might as well. I can see something’s up.”

“Is it that obvious?” Caledonia’s brow furrowed.

“Stop frowning. You’ll form wrinkles. And yes, to me it’s that obvious. Now for the last time, out with it.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. All right.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Virgil made another play for me last night.”

“After all you’ve done to make it clear there will never be anything between you again? Why doesn’t the man ever give up?”

Caledonia’s hand went up to stop her friend. “It’s a power play. He wants to be the dump-er instead of the dump-ee. Don’t worry. I didn’t give in. What I did give him was what for. You woulda been proud of me, Spice Girl.” Caledonia had long ago given the nickname to her friend, even though she was always tempted to call her Pippi because she resembled an adult Pippi Longstocking. Caledonia hunched her shoulders and leaned in, slightly sheepish but a touch defiant. She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered, “I hauled off and whacked him over the head with a tennis racket.”

Paprika sat up straight, her eyes bugging out behind her glasses. “You did not.”

“I most certainly did. Admittedly, it was a reflexive action, but upon reflection I’m glad I did it. Say, it didn’t by any chance rain last night, did it?” Caledonia wound some of her long blonde hair around a finger.

“Not that I’m aware. What do you mean a reflexive action?”

“I’d told him to take a hike and walked away from him. When he came up behind me and grabbed my left arm, my right arm reacted. I tell you what, he dropped like a bag of flour.”

Paprika broke out in a huge grin. “I wish I’d been there to see that.”

The women were laughing when owner, waitress, and half namesake of the diner, Junebug Calloway, came to the table. She had a crease in her septuagenarian forehead.

“Junebug, don’t do that. It’ll make your forehead permanently wrinkled.” Caledonia held out her coffee cup.

“I just thought you’d be a might subdued this morning, Caledonia, what with the news and all. I know that man did you wrong, but laughing at a time like this? I’m a might surprised is all.” She finished filling the cup and set the pot on the table, hands on her hips.

The two women exchanged bewildered looks before directing their confusion toward Junebug. “What news?” they asked simultaneously.

Junebug’s mouth dropped open, and she got a gleam in her eye. She loved to be the first one to pass on a bit of gossip. “You mean you haven’t heard?”

Again, both women were in sync. “Heard what?”

“‘Bout Virgil.”

The women stared at her blankly.

“He got stamped ‘return to sender.’”

“Return to sender?” Caledonia’s hand went to her throat. “You don’t mean . . . ”

Junebug nodded. “I do mean. He’s picking turnips with a stepladder now.”

Caledonia’s head bobbed from side to side. “That’s ridiculous. I just saw him yesterday afternoon.”

“You didn’t conk him over the head, did you?” Junebug chuckled but stopped when she saw the look that passed between the women.

“What do you mean, Junebug?” Caledonia’s mouth had gone dry.

“Well, somebody did. Bopped him on that thick noggin of his. Now they’re basting that turkey in formaldehyde.” As an afterthought, she added, “May he rest in peace.”

Junebug’s eyes went from woman to woman. “Listen, I hate to deliver bad news and run, but I’m in the weeds. Look at this crowd. Nothing like a good murder to bring out the townsfolk.” She held up a finger to a man two booths away. “Be right there, Chet.” Returning her eyes to Caledonia, she said, “Anything besides coffee today, ladies?”

Caledonia shook her head with a vacant expression on her face.

“Bring us two chocolate iced donuts, Junebug,” Paprika said.

Junebug nodded. “It looks like y’all could use a pick-me-up. Two life preservers, coming up.”

When Junebug left, the women stared at each other, both instinctively closing their mouths when they saw the other’s wide open. Caledonia swallowed hard. Paprika covered her mouth with her hand.

Finally, Caledonia leaned in and whispered, “You don’t think I killed him, do you?” Sitting back, she answered her own question, “I killed him. I sent the man to be with Jesus.”

“Now, Caledonia, don’t go getting ahead of yourself. And I doubt it’s Jesus he’s keeping company with if you ask me.”

“You heard her. Someone conked him over the head. That someone was me.” Caledonia poked her chest with a finger. “I offed a man. I’m a stone-cold killer. What will happen to the children?”

Paprika grabbed her friend’s hand. “Hush it. Not another word until we find out more. And talk to a lawyer.”

“I don’t know if a lawyer will talk to me. After all, I just killed my last one.”

“Caledonia Culpepper, get ahold of yourself.”

Caledonia stared blankly and muttered, “You take care of the boys until Mother can get here.”

“Take care of the boys? What are you talking about?”

Caledonia slid out of the booth.

“Where are you going?”

“I reckon to jail.” She walked to the counter where Johnny Butterfield, the chief of police, sat. Offering him her wrists, she said, “Lock me up, Chief. I’m a murderer.”

About the Author

Amy Metz is the author of the Goose Pimple Junction mystery series. She is a former first grade teacher and the mother of two grown sons. When not writing, enjoying her family, or surfing Pinterest and Facebook, Amy can usually be found with a mixing spoon, camera, or book in one hand and a glass of sweet tea in the other. Amy loves unique Southern phrases, cupcakes, and a good mystery. She lives in Louisville, Kentucky.

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