I never should have answered the phone at the crack of dawn. Especially on my day off. I should have just gone back to sleep, but it was an automatic response, like turning on the lights when I enter a room. I should have known better. The only person who calls me at ungodly hours is my mother. Naturally it came as no surprise she was at the other end of the phone. What did come as a surprise was the reason she called. She and her friend Cecilia, from their book club, thought they saw a dead body by the model railroad track exhibit in Sun City West, Arizona, where they reside.
They were hesitant to call the local posse because Cecilia had somewhat of a history with them when it came to reporting dead bodies. Dead bodies that turned out to be large palm fronds, scarecrows, and all sorts of things except corpses.
I was certain today’s discovery wasn’t going to be all that different from Cecilia’s “prior misses,” but nevertheless, I forced myself to get dressed and trek over there. Marshall, my fiancé and a detective with Williams Investigations, where I also worked, had already gone into the office so I couldn’t very well ask him to join me. Besides last thing he needed was to uncover some giant logs or more palm fronds.
I’m Sophie Kimball, Phee for short, and I moved out west a few years ago. Long story, but a happy ending. I’d been working a number of years for the Mankato Police Department in my role as a bookkeeper/accountant and would be still be back in Minnesota had it not been for my friend, Detective Nate Williams. He retired to Arizona and insisted I join the new investigative firm he was starting. What Nate hadn’t told me at the time was that his office wasn’t very far from my mother’s retirement community. He made me the proverbial offer I couldn’t refuse, so I rented out my house and decided to give it a try for a year.
Did I say a year? Well, it’s been more than that. Much more than that. In the interim, another detective from Mankato’s police force, Marshall Gregory, joined the agency. Funny, but we both had crushes on each other back in Minnesota but neither of us made a move. Long story short – we reconnected and plan to get married in less than three months. Who says fairytale endings don’t happen?
Unfortunately, finding a dead body at the railroad club exhibit did happen. I had to crawl over a model village display and a number of rocks before spying a man’s body by the railroad’s junction box. From there, the entire situation cascaded into a veritable nightmare.
It turned out the man’s wife was a friend of my mother’s and a friend of her book club ladies as well. It also turned out that she was a tap dancer, and guess what? A tap shoe with giant cleats was found next to the victim’s head. Yep, you figured it out – My mother and all her friends were adamant the woman not be locked up and that the tap shoe was circumstantial evidence.
To find out who really committed the murder, the book club ladies came up with a plan that would have put Mata Hari to shame. They called it Operation Agatha, in honor of Agatha Christie. Had Agatha Christie seen the plan, she would have fallen over laughing.
I had no recourse. I had to step in and do some sleuthing on my own. It wasn’t looking good for the victim’s wife and I, too, feared the poor woman would wind up in the Fourth Avenue Jail in Phoenix‒a place that made Alcatraz look inviting.
But would you care to know the worst part? It was Streetman, my mother’s neurotic Chiweenie dog that she simply couldn’t leave alone in the house. I think I spent more time with that little ankle biter than with my own daughter, who’s now a teacher in St. Cloud.
From attending model railroad club meetings, and tap-dancing venues, I put in more hours than the real detectives when it came to figuring out whodunit. I hate to admit it, but my life went from humdrum to humdinger the minute I moved out here.
I must say, at this juncture in time, I’ve become comfortable juggling bookkeeping and accounting as well as dipping my toes into murder investigations. After all, I’ve got plenty of backup if I need it. And as long as Marshall has no interest in model trains, we’re on the right track.
Railroaded 4 Murder, A Sophie Kimball Mystery #8
Genre: Cozy
Release: August 2021
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While planning her wedding, Sophie “Phee” Kimball gets sidetracked by the murder of a model train enthusiast . . .
Phee’s marriage to Marshall Gregory promises to be the wedding of the year in Arizona’s Sun City West—that is, if you ask her mother Harriet. But before she can walk down the aisle, it looks like she has to solve one more murder. At a model train exhibit, Phee, Harriet, and their beloved Chiweenie, Streetman, discover the body of Sun City West’s railroad club president, with an incriminating tap shoe near his lifeless corpse.
Wilbur Maines may have loved model trains but apparently he was not a model husband. There are rumors of affairs with hot-to-trot hobbyists the Choo-Choo Chicks. The police suspect his wife—and Harriet’s friend—Roxanne, who dances with the Rhythm Tappers, but Phee’s mom is convinced they’re on the wrong track. Before the poor woman is railroaded into spending the rest of her life behind bars, Phee, Harriet, and the book club ladies will need to do some fancy footwork, infiltrate the dance group, and find the real culprit before the killer leaves the station . . .
About the author
New York native Ann I. Goldfarb spent most of her life in education, first as a classroom teacher and later as a middle school principal and professional staff developer. Writing as J. C. Eaton, along with her husband, James Clapp, they have authored the Sophie Kimball Mysteries (Kensington), The Wine Trail Mysteries (Kensington Lyrical Underground and Beyond the Page Publishing), and the Marcie Rayner Mysteries (Camel). In addition, Ann has nine published YA time travel mysteries under her own name. Visit their website at jceatonmysteries.com and jceatonauthor.com, on Facebook and at timetravelmysteries.com.
When James E. Clapp retired as the tasting room manager for a large upstate New York winery, he never imagined he’d be co-authoring cozy mysteries with his wife, Ann I. Goldfarb. Non-fiction in the form of informational brochures and workshop materials treating the winery industry were his forte along with an extensive background and experience in construction that started with his service in the U.S. Navy and included vocational school classroom teaching.
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