When the Wicked Witch of the competitive Highland Dance World is found down on the athletic field, her skull crushed by a caber, it seems clear that someone wanted her very dead.
Ginny and Jim are again involved in a murder investigation centered on the Loch Lonach community. Neither wants to divert time from their wedding preparations, but when the police decide Ginny’s Maid of Honor is the prime suspect, she vows to do whatever is necessary to clear her friend's name. It's a race against time with Ginny's wedding—and her life—hanging in the balance.
""As good as the first three, which is saying something!”
"Meth gators in the Louisiana backwater!" How is she going to top that one?"
Caroline put her hands out in front of her and shoved. The maneuver worked better than she had anticipated. The Judge lost her balance and, crying out, tumbled down the concrete steps to the landing at the bottom of the mezzanine.
Caroline stared at her handiwork, satisfaction fighting with horror, then, to her genuine relief, suddenly there was another woman there, hurrying down the steps, picking Judge Jamieson up, helping her to her feet, and Alan’s hands were on her arms, pulling her back from the edge.
“You shouldn’t have touched her.”
Caroline sucked in a big breath, her eyes still on her nemesis, who stood blotting her forehead. Even in the dim light, Caroline could see she was bleeding.
Judge Jamieson looked up at her, her face twisted in fury. “I will see to it that you go to prison for this. You have attacked an officer of the court.”
“I shoved a bully.”
“I’ll have your job. Your license. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure you don’t get away with this!”
Caroline's eyes narrowed. "I suggest you go see a doctor. You might need stitches."
Jamieson snarled. "You're going to need more than stitches before I'm through with you!"
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Alan urged her in the direction of the parking lot.
Caroline watched a moment longer, then allowed Alan to lead her away. He was right. She shouldn’t have lost her temper like that. She was already regretting it
She had known better, had known what Jamieson was capable of. But the thought of all those people with no one to fight for them, to stand up to Jamieson for them, had overcome her reason. It was how she had been raised, to fight for the downtrodden.
As they made their way to Alan’s car, his voice urging her to make haste, she heard again the threats against her. Gary was right. A woman like that had enemies, a lot of them. It wouldn’t be a matter of if with her, just when and where and who.
Caroline paused on the edge of the sidewalk. Alan had gone to get the car. She watched him walk across the lot and imagined him armed, defending her honor, lopping off the offending head, and presenting it to her on a silver platter. She blinked at the image, then shivered as the night air caught up with her. The problem was, Jamieson could do it, destroy Caroline's professional career, if she wanted to. Caroline frowned, thinking it through, then turned and started limping back toward the breezeway.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Alan's voice carried in the silence.
"To the bathroom. I'll be right back." She waved to him, then continued up the ramp.
Excerpt from Final Fling by Maggie Foster. All rights reserved by publisher and author.