Detective Carrie Shatner is descended from a long line of criminals. While she might be somewhat proud of her ancestors, she’s had about all she can take of the current branches of her family tree. Between the moonshine distilling, marijuana growing, and all of the other crimes that they commit, the majority of the Shatners are on the fast track to a long stay in prison. What makes things worse for Carrie is that her family members expect her to use her job with the Wyatt County Sheriff’s Department to help them get away with their crimes.

At least none of the Shatners are involved in Wyatt County’s latest murder…Or so Carrie hopes.

 The one thing in the world that the Shatner family takes more seriously than family loyalty and breaking the law is professional wrestling. Carrie’s uncle Sterling loves pro wrestling so much that, years ago, he started his own independent wrestling organization. At this month’s show, The Ravishing Redneck’s retirement is overshadowed by the murder of his opponent. Following their main event match, Travis Yeager is brought down in the parking lot by a bow and arrow. Yeager is not only the most hated of the local pro wrestlers, he is also a competitive archer and the faculty adviser of the local high school’s archery club. Due to the murder weapon, and the fact that the killer must have been lying in wait, Carrie believes that this was no spur-of-the-moment killing committed by someone who was upset over the outcome of the match. The killer must have planned the murder out in advance.

 Carrie once again teams up with Sergeant Jerrod Hardy of the Texas Rangers to investigate The Beast’s murder, and determine who put the wrestler down for a permanent three count before the killer has a chance to strike again. 


“All right, Naomi, what is so important that you needed me to come over here? Don’t you know I have things to do tonight? Places I should already be at? People who are…Hold on, why are you wearing lingerie?” I asked my younger cousin as it finally hit me that she’d answered the door wearing a set of lacy black and pink lingerie. And, if the lingerie wasn’t off-putting enough, the two-handed death-grip that she had on a hot pink handgun was downright alarming. “What is going on? What’s the gun for? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Carrie,” Naomi said as she retreated backwards into her foyer and urgently gestured for me to follow. “But this scumbag I shot isn’t. I really need your help.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” I said as I took a step backwards and almost fell off Naomi’s front porch. “Is he dead?”

A couple minutes earlier, when Naomi called and sweet-talked me into coming over to her house, she hadn’t mentioned that she’d shot anyone and needed my help in disposing of a body. All she’d told me was that she needed a little help with something around her house. Ever since Naomi moved into the house across the street from me about two years ago, she’d developed the bad habit of calling me every time she needed help with something – from hanging a picture on the wall to fixing the hot water heater. Even though I had been in the middle of getting ready to head out for the night, I jogged across the street to her house to see if there was anything I could do to help with her latest problem.

“He’s not dead yet,” Naomi said

“Well, that’s a plus.” Crap! Crap! Crap! I stepped into Naomi’s foyer and kicked the front door shut behind me. “Where is this shot-up scumbag?”

“My bedroom,” Naomi said as she spun on her bare heel and then scampered back the hallway towards her bedroom. The hot pink handgun was still clenched in her hand.

“Then let’s get to it.” I said.