Introducing Margaret Mitchell Mysteries
The Case of the Poison Powder Chapter 1 - The cozy cousin of Carson Crime Files
Fans of The Scheme will remember that Katherine's best friend is named Margaret Mitchell. She is one of the best defense attorneys in Baltimore in 2009, And often helps Katherine with her cases and brings cases to Carson Investigations. She also has a little bit of crush on fan favorite Jake Mercer.
Enter the Margaret Mitchell Mysteries. Margaret, her white terrier Spotty, and her gang at the local nursing home tackle Baltimore mysteries with pluck, perception, and palaver.
The first novella in the series ties directly to The Scheme. Don't worry, if you haven't read The Scheme you can still follow the mystery. Or, purchase your copy of The Scheme here to make sure you don't miss any of the easter eggs.
In anticipation of the full release of this novella, I'm releasing one chapter a week to all free subscribers. If you'd like to get full novella now, you can upgrade your subscription here.
The Case of the Poison Powder
Chapter 1
“My instinct and intuition tell me there’s a request behind that compliment.” Katherine set down her water glass with that deliberate precision she used when she was already three steps ahead.
Margaret couldn’t help but grin. After thirty years of friendship, Katherine knew her too well. She also knew Margaret had a habit of ordering the cheapest thing on the menu then “sampling” half of Katherine’s entrée. It was a dance they’d perfected over hundreds of meals.
“And your integrity will tell you to take this case.” She pulled a file folder from her oversized leather bag with a flourish. Katherine called Margaret’s Baltimore charm a “tactical weapon.” And honestly? She took it as a compliment.
“I suppose this will be a pro bono case?” Katherine accepted the folder.
“I’ll buy your dinner!”
Katherine didn’t even glance up. “You were already buying my dinner.”
“Well then, I’ll buy your next dinner!” Margaret leaned forward conspiratorially. “Plus dessert. That fancy semifreddo you pretend you’re too disciplined to order but always steal bites of mine.”
“I don’t steal. I accept your freely offered bites.”
“I offer them because you’re giving me the sad puppy eyes.”
“I don’t do sad puppy eyes. I do calculated strategic guilt projection.” Katherine finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “And it’s working, isn’t it?”
Margaret laughed. “This woman is being railroaded, Kat. Absolutely railroaded. And we’re going to stop it.”
Katherine flipped through the file, and Margaret pretended to study the menu she had memorized. She knew better than to interrupt when Katherine was processing. They’d been doing this dance since Margaret was eight years old. She’d get them into mysteries, and Katherine figured out how to solve them. Now Margaret was a criminal defense attorney, and Katherine ran a private detective agency.
Some things are meant to be.
“Your table is ready, ladies.” The hostess led them to the back corner booth, Margaret’s favorite spot. High-backed, private, perfect for confidential consultations.
She slid across the buttery leather seat and breathed in the restaurant’s signature aroma: roasted garlic and fresh basil, with an undertone of that expensive truffle oil the chef used sparingly enough to feel special. The soft jazz was live tonight, a pianist in the corner playing something that sounded like moonlight feels. Warm Edison bulb lighting cast everything in honeyed tones, making even Margaret’s stack of legal documents look artistic. This was the kind of place where you could discuss felonies over pasta and nobody even blinked. In fact, the couple in the next booth appeared to be planning either a merger or a murder, and the server just smiled and topped off their wine.
This was her kind of place.
They ordered—mushroom ravioli for her, of course—and Margaret started talking about the case. Facts first, moral outrage second. That’s what worked with Katherine.
“Why are the police convinced she’s guilty?” Katherine’s tone was flat. Professional.
Margaret leaned forward. “The storage facility has restricted access. Only three individuals are authorized to enter the secure areas. My client, Sade Jalloh, is the storage manager. Her badge gets her everywhere.” She paused, making sure she had Katherine’s full attention. “And according to the ASA—who is far too smug about this, by the way—the digital logs show her badge was scanned at the facility on the night of the theft.”
The server set down a bowl of spinach and artichoke dip and a basket of bread. Katherine was watching Margaret with those deep blue eyes that missed nothing. “But you don’t believe she did it.”
“Not for one second, hon.” Margaret met her gaze directly. This was the part that mattered. “Sade has worked there for fifteen years. Never missed a day. Never had a single complaint. She volunteers at her church, for heaven’s sake. And suddenly she’s going to risk everything to steal pesticides?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t track. Kat. It’s someone looking at a scared Black woman and deciding she must be guilty because the computer says so.”
Katherine tore off a piece of bread. “The alibi is weak, Mags. Wandering a city for hours looking for an address that doesn’t exist?” A pause while she took a bite. “That won’t hold up.”
“Which is exactly why we need to find the construction worker who gave her directions that night! If he remembers her, we’ve got corroboration. We’ve got timeline. We’ve got reasonable doubt.” Margaret leaned in. “Sade insists she wasn’t anywhere near that facility. Someone used her badge. Someone set her up. And I am going to prove it.”
Katherine’s fingers started rhythmic tapping on the table. Thinking mode activated. “Jake is going to Wilmington tomorrow for our missing persons case. I’ll have him look for your witness, too.”
Margaret felt victory swell through her chest. She smiled wide and popped a whole slice of bread in her mouth, not even caring about elegance. “You’re an angel, Kat. A genuine angel.”
“Maybe the two of you can get together for dinner to discuss his results,” Katherine said with a sly smile.
Heat rushed to Margaret’s cheeks. “Why I...ah...” Good Lord, even thinking about Jake Mercer turned her into a flustered schoolgirl. The man was six feet of quiet competence and steady hands, and she’d been half in love with him since Katherine introduced them seven years ago.
“That would be very...strategic. Professional coordination,” she babbled.
Katherine mercifully changed the subject. “How does Marty Slye fit into all this? He told me he was ‘on the other side’ of this case.”
Just hearing that weasel’s name made Margaret’s nose scrunch up. Marty Slye represented everything wrong with their profession—all schtick, no ethics, and an ego that preceded him into every room.
“A few weeks ago, Sade suspected her husband of having another affair. She hired Marty to follow him and gather evidence.”
“And he found some.”
“Of course! Pictures of her husband with another woman. Recordings of conversations about divorce proceedings.” Margaret tapped the file folder with one coral-polished nail. “Then, when news broke about Sade’s arrest, Marty ‘came forward’ like any upstanding citizen would.” She rolled her eyes hard enough to see her own brain. “Publicity hound.”
Katherine lifted an eyebrow. “He’ll testify against her. Get his free publicity.”
“Exactly!” Margaret pointed her fork. “The police think an impending divorce and her husband’s infidelity give her a motive. She can sell twenty-five kilograms of chlorpyrifos to local farmers, build herself a nest egg while the marriage falls apart.”
Katherine tilted her head. “Chlorpyrifos isn’t particularly valuable. Most common pesticide in the US. A big company like AgroSynthetics must have more valuable inventory to steal.”
“Precisely!” Margaret felt that spark of vindication. This was why she needed Katherine. “The woman has an MBA. If she’s committing grand larceny, she’d at least steal something worth the prison time.”
“You need to talk to the other two people with access. Find out what else was stored there.” Katherine paused, and something shifted in her expression—a crack in that professional armor. “And triple-check Marty’s story. Wouldn’t be the first time he...” She stopped. Caught herself. “I wish I could do more. The Ames case has me stretched thin.”
Margaret reached across the table and squeezed Katherine’s hand. The woman worked too hard, always had. “No worries, hon. You just find my witness, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Their server arrived with steaming plates, and Margaret ate greedily. She’d been so busy prepping for Sade’s preliminary hearing that she’d forgotten to eat lunch. Again.
“If your client didn’t steal the pesticides, someone else did.” Katherine cut into her chicken with surgical precision. “Someone with access. Or someone who bypassed the security system.”
“Or someone who cloned her badge.” Margaret dabbed her mouth with her napkin, mind racing. “I’m meeting with the facility’s IT director tomorrow. And I need to have a very long conversation with Sade’s husband. If he’s planning to divorce her anyway, why not frame her for theft? He gets everything in the settlement while she’s fighting criminal charges.”
“That’s cold.”
Margaret felt her smile turn sharp. “Isn’t it just? But that’s what we’re dealing with, Kat. Someone cold enough to destroy this woman’s life.” She leaned back. “And I am going to find them.”
Katherine raised her water glass. “To justice.”
Margaret clinked her wine glass against it. “And to friends who help us fight for it.”



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