Madison Johns – Trouble in Tawas

This week it’s my pleasure to host author, Madison Johns.

Madison Johns splashed onto the publishing scene in 2012 with the release of her first cozy mystery, Armed and Outrageous, which features a septuagenarian sleuth, Agnes Barton, who alongside her best friend, Eleanor Mason, take to crime solving when crime comes knocking in their town, with enough antics to make James Bond blush. It has gone on to be her first Amazon bestseller, but that was only the beginning as each of her Agnes Barton in the series have also gone on to become bestsellers in their own right, dominating the cozy mystery category. Madison also writes romance, and her unusual knack for quirky characters, is also evident in her books Pretty and Pregnant and Redneck Romance.

Trouble in Tawas

Agnes Barton has been waiting years for this day. She’s always told Sheriff Peterson he would rue the day when his re-election time came around and now — it’s finally here. What will Agnes do? Will she cause conflict or support the other candidate?

When the sheriff’s father Hal goes missing, Agnes and Eleanor Mason are on a mission to find him, leading them to the Soaring Eagle Casino. But when they haul him home it’s only to find that his companion, Raul Perez, is dead at the bottom of the stairs. When the cops show up it doesn’t look good for Hal who is in possession of the dead man’s credit card. With Hal now as a suspect, and Sheriff Peterson off the case, the sheriff hires Agnes and Eleanor to clear his father’s name.

Will Agnes be able to clear Hal’s name in time to save Peterson from failure at the polls or is this case too bizarre as a tenant claims aliens are involved?


An older woman, dressed snugly in a lavender dress, stood shoving a hot dog into her mouth while clutching a beer can and it was all I could do not to shout, “You can’t do that at the beach.” From what I was aware, you can’t even drink beer in public like that outside unless it’s at bar patio or beer tent.

I strode up to the woman as she chomped on her hot dog and waited until she was done. I then said, “You do know you can’t drink beer at the public beach.”

Her cheeks became fire engine red. “Did my son send you over here?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think I know your son. Is he someone special?”

“Well, he is running for sheriff in this county.”

I gasped. “Really? So you must be Clay Barry’s mother. I met him earlier and he told me his mother would be here.”

“Undoubtedly. I’m Mrs. Barry.”

El leaned forward on her toes. “Do you have a first name?”

“Yes, but everybody calls me Mrs. Barry so you can too.”

I smiled. “That’s awfully formal for someone drinking beer on the beach. If you keep that kind of business up, you’ll make Sheriff Peterson happy.”

“My son is a shoe-in for sheriff. As you can see, my son is very fit and much younger than that rot gut Peterson.”

I felt offended, like I had to stick up for Peterson. “He’s a good sheriff. I can’t imagine any newcomer would stand a chance against him.”

“Well, you’re wrong there. My son is going to clean up this town.”

“East Tawas is already cleaned up and nicer than you’ll find anywhere in Michigan.”

“Redwater is a nice town too.”

“Then why isn’t he running for sheriff there?”

“Be-because my dear lady, he wants to run here.”

I rolled my eyes just as the sheriff’s car rolled into the parking lot. His car screeched to a stop and he rumbled out, making tracks toward us. Eying the beer can, his face reddened.

“There’s no beer allowed on the beach. Can’t you read the sign?” he bellowed.

“I can read just fine. I’ll throw it away if it bothers all you people so much,” an exasperated Mrs. Barry said.

“So what gives, Peterson? Fancy meeting you here,” I said.

He eyed up the banner and replied, “I received a few complaints, but I’ll take my leave since it’s settled.” At that he left—obviously not wanting to interfere in the fundraiser of his opponent.

A black sedan drove up and I shuddered momentarily. Ever since goons had shot at El and me during a case, black sedans gave me the willies.

Clay Barry exited the sedan, followed by two comical looking senior ladies who were dressed alike, in white leggings underneath yellow shirts displaying a large Macaw dead center that was done in blue, red, and green vibrant sequins. It was hideous. It looked worse than what I had seen earlier at the craft show. Both ladies had pinched faces with bright rouge applied to their cheekbones. Their hair was swooped up into a beehive of sorts, and who wore one of those these days? It dated back to the 60’s when women had their hair done once a week by beauticians of the day.

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About Evelyn Cullet

I write mystery romance and romantic suspense novels. I'm an avid organic gardener, and I play the piano. I have a spoiled Black Lab mix., Bailey, whom I adore. Visit my blog every Monday to discover new authors and their novels at:
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