Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

familiar with each other.”
    “Do you recognize him?”
    “There’s something familiar about him, but I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe something will click once he takes the rest of his clothes off.”
    “Mom!”
    “When did you turn into such a prude, Addison? I raised you better than that.” She clucked her tongue and turned back to spying in the windows. “Oh. My. God.”
    “What? What happened? Shit, I hate not being able to see anything.”
    “Take my advice when I tell you to be glad for small blessings in disguise.”
    “Has John Hyatt come into the picture?”
    “Most definitely,” my mother said, snapping pictures.
    “Well, what are they doing?” I was up off the ground now, my face pressed between two of the iron bars that kept us out. I still couldn’t see anything other than blurred shapes no matter how hard I strained to see.
    “Let’s just say you’re going to be very surprised when you get a load of these photos. I could sell these to the National Enquirer and become a millionaire.”
    I waited for another twenty minutes in impatient silence, hating the fact that I was being left out of the loop on such great gossip. My mom closed the notebook, took one last photo and packed up our supplies. She grabbed me by the arm and practically ran with me to the car.
    “Let’s get out of here,” she said, sliding behind the wheel. “I think I need to take a cold shower.”

    I was full of questions on the short drive back to my apartment, but my mom kept her mouth shut and sped through the town’s two traffic lights like the cops were on her tail. She squealed to a stop in front of my apartment stairs, blocking the entrance and taking up two handicap parking spaces.
    “This is terrible. Just terrible,” she muttered as she slammed her door shut and circled the car to help me inside. I knew she was agitated because she’d left the car running. I leaned over and groped for the keys and turned off the ignition before she hauled me out of the car. She pulled me behind her up the steps like I had full sight capabilities.
    I didn’t.
    If I held something very close to my face I could make out the larger details, and I could see large shapes and tell where light was coming from. But that was it.
    My shins banged against each step, but my mother couldn’t hear my shouts of pain because of all the muttering she was doing. When we got to the fourth floor, she forged ahead, leaving me to find my own way down the hall while she unlocked my door. Left to my own devices, I wrenched my left shoulder when it slammed into a door jam, and my forehead managed to make contact with a wall sconce.
    By the time my mom led me into my living room, I couldn’t have cared less about what scandalous thing she saw at the Hyatt mansion. I just wanted an ice pack and a soak in the tub, but I settled for lying on the couch. She called one of her neighbors to come get her, and I grunted as she sat at the other end and put my bruised legs across her lap.
    “How could you put me in this position?” my mother asked.
    “Hey, you were the one who wanted to be just like Columbo. Don’t blame me for this. You’re just upset because you know you can’t be the first to spread the news around.”
    “It’s my duty to the community,” she said primly.
    It was true. My mom’s ability to ferret out juicy information was right up there with those guys in the military who were experts on torture techniques. I’d put her in a terrible position. She had a reputation to uphold.
    “Maybe it’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. Why don’t you tell me what you saw?”
    “I can’t bear to speak the words.” She bent down and pulled the camera out of the bag at her feet. “You can see for yourself.”
    “I’m not going to be able to see.” I was like a little girl ready to throw a tantrum. I really wanted to see what was on that camera.
    She turned on the camera and handed it to me. If I closed my left eye things became a little clearer, but after I caught a glimpse of what was on the screen I was afraid I would be permanently blind. I wheezed in a breath and saw my life flash before my eyes.
    “Who would believe me if I told them?” my mom asked.
    “Well, we do have the pictures, but you’re right. This town is not ready for John Hyatt’s secrets. We’d have to move out of state.”
    “That’s not such bad news for you. You’ve been evicted.”
    “Thanks for reminding me,” I