I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.

Ephesians 3:16-17 (NIV)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First and foremost I want to thank my incredible editor, Beverly Nault. Without Bev’s hand to rope in Trixie and the girls no telling what trouble they’d get into.

As always I want to thank my readers. You’ve encouraged me, inspired me and kept me writing. Without readers there wouldn’t be much need for writer’s. Keep on reading and remember that I’d love to hear from you. You can contact me at www.deborah-malone.com.

Dedication

Chilled in Chattanooga is dedicated to my friends and family who have encouraged me throughout my writing journey.

My mother and father didn’t get to see me become a published author, but I know they would have been proud.

I’m thankful for the love of reading they instilled in me.

It was this love of reading that lead to my love of writing.

Thank you Mother and Dad.

CHAPTER ONE

Abody in the deep freeze? Dear God, please help me.

Harv, my boss at Georgia by the Way, gave me grief when I told him I wanted to attend a three day intensive workshop for magazine writers. I finally convinced him it would be for the good of the magazine. I wished I hadn’t been so convincing.

Yes, Annie possessed a brash side and rubbed some of the writing students the wrong way, but murder? How could attending an intensive writer’s workshop end up in my discovering our teacher’s body in the deep freeze?

How in the name of all that’s good did I find myself in the vicinity of another dead body? This wasn’t the first body I’d found, but I prayed it would be my last. Since I began writing for Georgia by the Way, a magazine where past meets present, I’d stumbled into several murder investigations. I cringed at the thought of becoming another Jessica Fletcher.

As I waited my turn for Detective Bianca Sams’ interrogation, my mind traveled back a little more than twenty-four hours ago. I needed to make sense of the senseless murder of Annie Henderson. As I journeyed alone in my mind’s eye I could see my great-aunt Nana plain as the nose on her face. I heard her call out into the night.

“Would you look at those lights – breathtaking! Oh, there’s an elf, take our picture together.”

My great-aunt, also known as Nana, gushed over the Enchanted Christmas light display at Rock City on Lookout Mountain, Georgia. The numerous fairy lights twinkled like a sky full of stars. Nana took off in a slow run. I didn’t know such a thing existed until I saw her version of running. Guilt shrouded me for laughing; after all she is a senior citizen. “Nana, wait on us!” In a flash she’d grabbed the arm of an elf mascot and pulled him toward her. The surprised elf pulled the other way, but Nana held on with a death grip.

“Get that camera of yours and start shooting. I want something to remember this night by. You know my memory ain’t so good anymore.” That might be true, but most of the time Nana’s memory rivaled an elephants. I believe the term is selective memory. Many times since I’d moved back home I believed Nana used her age to get away with quirky antics. On our last vacation to Tybee Island, without anyone’s knowledge, she decided to get a tattoo “a mermaid to remember our trip by.” As if anyone could forget.

I removed my camera from my shoulder, focused and clicked away. Since working for Georgia by the Way, I’d taken hundreds of pictures. Harv required photos with his articles, so photography had become second nature to me.

When Nana begged me to come along on this trip, I hesitated. That is, until my best friend Dee Dee Lamont promised she’d come and help me keep herd on Nana. Dee Dee had more patience with Nana than I did. I loved her dearly, but my patience remained in practice mode.

Nana did a 360 and let out a big sigh. “Ain’t this something? Just look at all these lights. Have you ever seen anything like it, Trix?” Nana looked at me, eyes wide with excitement, reminding me of a child at Christmas.

I told the truth when I said, “No, I don’t believe I have, Nana.” The lights at Rock City were nice, but a little too much for me. I preferred the jaw-dropping view from the top of Lookout Mountain. We arrived in time to see the sunset from Lover’s Leap, one of the observation points at Rock City. The park boasts that you can see seven states from several points on the grounds. The sunset was God’s display of lights and what an exhibition he put on for us. The blue and pink hues merged together, weaving a beautiful tapestry as the orange ball disappeared.

Thinking of Lover’s Leap brought bittersweet memories to mind. Time had flown and I’d already been married for almost a year to the most wonderful man, Beau Beaumont. I’d traveled to Chattanooga to attend an intensive workshop for magazine writers. Beau, a deputy sheriff, was in Texas taking classes for recertification. I missed him. This would be the first time we’d been apart for more than a couple of days.

Dee Dee nudged me. “Hey girl, get with the program. If we don’t get a move on Nana’s going to take that elf home with us.”

That put a burr under my saddle. “Come on, Nana. Let’s go back to the hotel. This is our last night together before I attend the workshop. Then you and Dee Dee will be on your own for a couple of days.” I hugged Nana. “Think you can get along without me?”

Dee Dee and Nana shared a grin. “Sure we can, Trixie,” Nana said.

“Well, that makes me feel loved.”

“Aw come on, Trixie, don’t be such a whiner. You know we love you. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get along without you.” Dee Dee laughed to soften the sting of her comment. “Come on ladies, let’s get a move on so we can stop for some hot chocolate at the Café Espresso.” We’d booked a hotel room at the Chattanooga Choo Choo and were delighted when we discovered you could stay in an authentic railroad car. I looked forward to a restful night in the Victorian room.

I’d been to the Chattanooga train station before, but it had been years ago. Time had clouded my memory of the beautiful building. When we walked into the historic station the first thing that caught my eye was the multi-colored dome covering the concourse. Four enormous brass chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

We enjoyed a cup of hot cocoa at the little out of the way café and headed to our room. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to hit the hay,” Dee Dee said. “ I’m going to change into my pajamas and I’ll be right out.” True to her word, in a few minutes she stepped out of the small bathroom wearing red pajamas covered in black and white kitties decorated with wreaths around their necks. Even though Dee Dee had two grown children of her own, she referred to her five cats as her children.

She stretched and yawned loud enough to wake the dead. “Okay, I’m ready for some shut-eye.”

“You and me both girl.” I changed into my night clothes while Dee Dee was in the bathroom. I just needed to wash my face.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet. We have too much to talk about.” I looked at Nana decked out in footie pajamas, a far cry from her usual Victoria’s Secret nighties. I guess the December weather was too much for her usual nighttime attire. I wondered why she wanted to stay up – we were all tired.