from The Cakes of Wrath
A Piece of Cake Mystery by Jacklyn Brady
Have you ever had a rotten neighbor? I sure have! My current neighbor is all kinds of messed up. And no, I'm not talking about the neighbors at home. They're all right. I'm talking about the neighbors at work.
I own a second-hand store in New Orleans called Second Chances, and right now I'm acting president of the Magnolia Square Small Business Alliance. The neighborhood has me to thank for putting the alliance together in the first place. I'm not bragging, but I'm the kind of person who gives and gives and gives--which is why I offered to lead the group.
Most of the other members appreciate what I do. They know a leader when they see one and they know my boys, Isaiah and Keon, are there to do the heavy lifting. But not all the alliance members appreciate the work I do, and that's the issue.
Well . . . part of the issue anyway.
My closest neighbors are Moose and Destiny Hazen from the Chopper Shop, a motorcycle repair place right next door to my own store. The Chopper Shop is noisy and dirty and smelly, and it's full of biker-types from morning to night. But that's not what I don't like about having the Hazens as neighbors.
Moose is a good enough guy, I suppose, even if he is blind when it comes to that wife of his. But Destiny . . . well, being a good God-fearing woman, I can't say what I really think. I'll just have to tell you that the woman is nothin' but trouble. And that's the nicest thing I can say about her. She's never where she's supposed to be, and she shops 'til there ain't nothin' in the bank. That poor husband of hers has to work like a dog to make ends meet.
And speaking of dogs, Miss High-and-Mighty likes to get all up in my business when it comes to my dog, Gilbert. And don't even get me started on the way she is with my boys. That Destiny is a bad influence for sure.
Honey, you go right ahead and ask anybody. See if they don't tell you the exact same thing. Just wait 'til you meet her for yourselves. But don't say I didn't warn you. . . cuz I did.