by Sonia Parin
When Dermot had retired and moved to Eden permanently, Felicia had followed, at first spending weekends at a farm she’d purchased and then, finally moving here to be closer to him. To her chagrin, she’d insisted on maintaining their relationship a secret.
That morning, when she’d found him dead, she’d been distraught and had fled the house. She knew she should have called the police but explained that by the time she’d reached her car, she’d heard the police sirens and had assumed someone else had raised the alarm.
When Abby had returned to the pub, it had been well after midnight but she hadn’t been able to sleep and so she’d sat down to write a feature article about the people she’d met since arriving in the small town.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Faith asked.
Before she could answer, the front door swung open and Detective Inspector Joshua Ryan strode in carrying a couple of coffees. Setting the coffees down, he dug inside his pocket and produced a doggie biscuit for Doyle.
“I have a full day ahead full of paperwork,” he explained. “So, I thought I’d swing by and fortify myself with some of Joyce’s coffee.” He smiled at Abby. “So, are the girls giving you a farewell party or a welcome to Eden party tonight?”
“Oh, thanks for reminding me. I have to drop in on the Eden Thespians and see if they can outfit me with proper attire for the occasion. I hope they have a little bow tie for Doyle.”
Doyle and Joshua exchanged a male bonding look.
Joshua handed her a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” She skimmed through it and gasped. “Really? You were actually serious about doing a background check on me?”
“Yes, and you’ll be happy to note we’re prepared to overlook that small infraction.”
Faith jumped to her feet. “Let me see. What infraction? What did she do?”
Abby could not believe her ex had lodged a complaint about her slashing his favorite suit.
“I’m sure there’s a story in there,” Joshua said.
Abby folded the piece of paper and, smiling at Faith, said, “I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”
The door opened again and Sebastian Cavendish strode in. “I see someone beat me to it. I came to take you both out for morning coffee.” He handed Abby an envelope.
Her marching orders?
He smiled and said, “I figured you needed a new contract.”
I hoped you enjoyed End of the Lane!
The next Abby Maguire and Doyle book - Be Still My Heart
If you enjoyed reading this book and would like to receive notifications about new releases, please follow Sonia Parin on BookBub
Be Still My Heart
Book 2
About this book
Abby Maguire is lagging behind with her scoops. As a reporter for the Eden Rise Gazette, she needs to be first in with the news but Eden in a small town and, even on a bad day, nothing much happens… And even then, the local café owner had shown a talent for beating her to the latest news.
After witnessing an altercation between two Eden thespian rivals, Abby hopes the annual Eden picnic fundraiser will be the perfect venue for her to witness some fireworks she can include in the next edition of the Eden Rise Gazette. Everyone has turned up, and everyone is dressed in 1920s costumes. Everyone including the dead body she finds.
The police claim it was death by natural causes. No one is Eden believes this, and everyone expects Abby Maguire to get to the bottom of the unexpected death. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make the death look like an accident. When she’s staring down the barrel of a gun, Abby knows she finally has her scoop.
This Cozy Mystery is a clean read, with no graphic violence, sex, or strong language but full of lots of fun, quirky dialogue and characters.
If you’d like to receive notifications about new releases, please follow Sonia Parin on BookBub
Chapter One
“Are you mad? If you print this, the whole town will rise up against you and then I’ll have to write your obituary. Abby Maguire, who would have guessed you’d turn out to be such a killjoy?”
Abby waved at a passer-by and then looked at Faith. The young Eden Rise Gazette office assistant sat at her desk scowling.
“You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said,” Faith complained.
Abby swung her feet off the desk and sat up. “I have been listening and every word in that article I wrote is true. The world is running out of cocoa beans putting the production of chocolate at risk. I’m merely reporting a scientific fact.”
Faith gave a slow shake of her head. Tapping her computer screen, she said, “This is irresponsible reporting. I’m afraid I’ll have to put my foot down. I know I’m only the office assistant here, but I have a say in what is included in the weekly paper.”
“Faith, you play a pivotal role in the Eden Rise Gazette and I wouldn’t be able to do my job without your valuable assistance, but the story will go ahead.” Abby tried to keep a straight face. “People need to know.”
Faith looked around the office. When her gaze landed on the storefront window, she grimaced. “People will throw stones through the window. I can picture the mob, armed with pitchforks and crying for your blood.”
“Nonsense. You underestimate the average person’s desire to be kept informed.”
Faith pursed her lips. “The writing is atrocious.”
“What?” Abby leaned forward and looked at her computer screen. “The delicate cacao plant is under threat as rising temperatures are sucking moisture from the soils where the trees grow.” She looked up. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s morbid.” Faith threw her hands up in the air. “Experts believe the cacao plant will be impossible to grow after the year 2050. That’s within my lifetime. How could you?”
Abby could barely contain her laughter. “I’m sure we’ll all find a substitute for chocolate. Did you know there’s a fruit that tastes like chocolate?” Abby did a quick search online. “The Black Sapote, otherwise known as the chocolate pudding fruit. It grows in Florida, the Philippines and there’s an Australian variety called Bernicker. See, all’s well. In fact, it’s even better than that because you get to eat healthy chocolate.”
“Are you quite finished?”
“You feel really strongly about this.” Abby cocked her head in amusement. “I read the article to Doyle last night and he seemed to like it.”
“Doyle? He’s a dog and he doesn’t eat chocolate. What would he know?” Faith wagged her finger at Abby. “The ink on your contract with Sebastian Cavendish is not dry yet. I’m sure there’s a cooling off period and once he hears of this—”
Abby laughed. “You think this is grounds for dismissal?” Sebastian Cavendish owned one of the largest newspapers in the country as well as a few international ones. Abby would be lucky if he spent two minutes thinking about the Eden Rise Gazette, a small town weekly newspaper he had inherited from his grandfather. They were lucky he’d chosen to keep it running…
“Fine. Run the article, but don’t blame me when you’re chased out of town. We’ve taken you in, we’ve accepted you and treated you as one of our own and this is the thanks we get. You’re asking for trouble, Abby Maguire.” Faith continued muttering under her breath as she got busy working on the layout for the next edition of the Eden Rise Gazette.
“Coffee?” Abby offered. “I’m headed down to Joyce’s Café.”
“Throw in some cake and I might decide to forgive you. Oh, and hurry back. We still need to put the finishing touches to the annual picnic announcement. The posters are going up tomorrow but I think it’ll be a great idea if we run it first.”
The timing could not have been better, Abby thought. The town was still recovering from the recent loss of one of its most prominent members. The owner of the Gazette, Dermot Cavendish, had been greatly admired by everyone. Instead of fading, his memory was kept alive. Not a day went by when she didn’t hear his name weaving into a conversation.
Growling, Faith muttered something about fire and brimstone raining upon her.
Abby drew out her cell phone and checked the time. “In ten, nine, eight…” The town clock struck the hour and her cell phone rang. “Hi, mom.”
“I can’t see you.”
Ever since Abby had landed in the small town of Eden, 8,000 plus miles away from her previous home in Seattle, her mom had insisted they video chat at least once a week. If it were up to her, they’d be connected 24/7. Then again, her mom lived in Iowa, the safest state in which to live and she couldn’t help worrying about Abby who’d uprooted her life to trek half way around the world for a job. Strangely, her mom had never worried when Abby had lived and worked in Seattle.
Abby bobbed her head from side to side as she thought Seattle didn’t have the world’s deadliest critters crawling around the place. Although, she had yet to encounter any of them here…
Adjusting the angle of her cell phone, she asked, “Can you see me now?”
“Yes, now show me the rest.”
Abby sighed. Her mom needed to know Dermot Cavendish’s death had been an isolated incident.
“It’s just a regular day here in Eden, mom. We had some morning frost but the sun is out now. People are looking forward to the annual picnic by the lake. I’ll be headed there later on to take some photos.” She turned the corner into the main street and saw Joyce Breeland outside her café holding a straw hat and…
“What? What’s happened?” her mom asked. “Your eyebrows just shot up.”
“Oh… well. Remember Joyce?”
“Yes, of course I do. She’s lovely and I simply adore how she dresses. You should get some tips from her.”
A walking fashion statement. Joyce Breeland loved her costumes. “She’s…” Abby searched for the right word. “Thrusting a hat at someone.” As she came closer, Abby recognized the man with Joyce. Bradford Mills, Joyce’s fiancé and the owner of the local antique store, Brilliant Baubles. “What’s the name of those hats worn in the 1920’s?” Abby clicked her fingers. “They’re boating hats. I’m sure they’re also worn by students at Oxford and Cambridge.”
“A Spencer boating hat,” her mom said.
“That’s it.” Why would Joyce use one as a weapon?
“What’s happening now? Show me,” her mom demanded.
Joyce just hit Bradford with the hat…
Abby ran the words through her mind and tried to imagine her mom’s reaction. It wouldn’t be good. “I think Joyce is trying to make a point. I’m too far away to show you.”
“Well, walk faster.”
Abby looked down at Doyle and nudged her head. “Come on, Doyle. The suspense will make my mom jittery.” When she got within earshot of the couple, Abby sighed. “Mom, I think they’re just having a friendly discussion about proper boating attire.” And Bradford Mills appeared to be dead set against wearing a ridiculous straw hat.
“Are you attending this picnic?” her mom asked.
“Yes, of course,” Abby confirmed. “I have to write about it.”
“And what are you going to wear?” her mom asked.
Abby hadn’t given it any thought.
“Are you going with someone?”
She really hadn’t given it any thought.
“What about that lovely detective? You could ask him. After all, this is a charity event. He should be prepared to do his bit.”
Abby didn’t want to read too much into her mom’s suggestion. Although… Did she actually see her as a charity case? “Joshua is busy.”
“What with? Has someone else been murdered?”
“No, of course not. He’s busy with other police duties. You know… maintaining law and order.”
“But he’s a detective. They only deal with serious crimes.”
Abby didn’t want to mention the recent case of arson or the sudden rise in car thefts in the next town.
Seeing her, Joyce beckoned her over. “Abby, just the person to weigh in on this.”
Abby smiled at Bradford who gave her a small nod of acknowledgment and said, “I bet anything Abby is not going to dress up for the picnic. Hello, Mrs. Maguire.”
“Please, call me Eleanor,” her mom said, “I hear you’re all going on a picnic.”
“Yes,” Joyce chirped. “And I have the perfect outfit for it. It’s a pleated skirt with a sailor sweater, all in eggshell white. Bradford is wearing eggshell white trousers with a matching sweater and a straw hat.”
“No, I’m not,” Bradford Mills grumbled.
“Then why did you dig up this old hat from your trunks?” Joyce demanded.
“As you can see, mom, it’s just another day in Eden.” Abby backed away from the feuding couple and went in to get some coffee. “I’m going to have to say goodbye now, mom. I promised Faith I’d get her some cake and I have Doyle with me,” Abby said as she strode past another couple arguing.
Oddly enough, the heated discussion appeared to be about appropriate attire to wear for the picnic.
The charity event had been running for a couple of years. Joyce had been the one to suggest reviving an old tradition of auctioning picnic baskets to raise money for the local hospital but only after learning it had all started back in the 1920s. Inspired by the fashion of the time, she’d insisted everyone had to dress accordingly.
Abby was about to order her coffee when she saw the poster hanging behind the counter advertising the picnic.
Proper 1920s attire Non Optional.
No exceptions – for anyone.
That means you, Abby Maguire.
Abby looked down at Doyle. “Don’t give me that doggy grin. If I have to dress up, then you have to dress up. We’re in this together.”
Doyle sighed.
Back at the Gazette, Abby found Faith busy at her computer, still grumbling about the possible scarcity of chocolate.
Faith looked up and pushed out a breath that spoke of frustration. “I’m going to have nightmares about this. All thanks to you.”
“Cheer up. It might never happen.” Abby set the coffee and cake down. “Sorry to be the bearer of more bad news. Joyce beat you to it. She’s already put up a poster for the picnic.” Abby leaned against the desk. “Did you know proper attire for the picnic is non negotiable?”
“Of course. Everyone knows that. Including Bradford Mills.”
“That’s an odd remark to make.”
Faith shook her head. “I just got off the phone with Eddie Faydon who told me she saw Joyce and Bradford arguing outside the café.”
“I can’t believe Eddie beat me to it. I saw them too.” Like everyone who lived in Eden, the redheaded co-owner of the pub Abby had been staying at had her finger on the pulse. “It almost makes the Gazette redundant.”
Faith sighed and took a bite of her cake. “Your scaremongering articles might take care of that.”
Abby grabbed the digital camera from her desk and checked to make sure it had been charged.
“Kitty Belmont stored the props at the boat shed,” Faith said. “We just need a photo of Kitty and her boyfriend, Gordon.”
“Props?”
“A picnic basket. Kitty belongs to the Eden Thespians so she’s also organized the costumes. Let’s hope Gordon is a willing participant. She’s super efficient and a bit of a control freak. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already set everything up for you.”
Abby sipped her coffee. “How’s the cake?”
Faith tilted her head in thought as she stared at her chocolate cake. “There’s a strange aftertaste. I suspect this is what a last meal tastes like.” She set her fork down. “It reminds me of the time the stores stopped stocking Delta Creams. They’re an Australian version of Oreos. Suddenly, they disappeared from the shelv
es. I made my last cookie last for as long as I could, nibbling on it a bit at a time. When I got to the end, I wept.”
“And?” Abby prodded. “Did the earth stop spinning on its axis?”
“A year later, I visited friends in the city and discovered they were back in store shelves right along with Oreos.”
“All’s well that ends well?”
Faith frowned. “I find scarcity stories scary and disturbing. They play havoc with my peace of mind.”
Abby laughed under her breath. “Are we still friends?”
Faith took another bite of cake and gave her a toothy grin. “Of course. Now… go and bring back a fabulous photo and a new angle to promote the picnic that doesn’t involve the extinction of chocolate.”
Abby drove along the main street and wasn’t surprised to see Joyce only now going back inside the café while Bradford Mills was striding back to his antique store, the straw hat in his hand.
“He doesn’t look happy.” Right on cue, Bradford punched the air… with the hat. “I guess it could be worse.” He might have used the hat as a punching bag. “Oh, to be in love.”
Doyle sighed and rested his chin on his paws.
“Is that a ‘wake me up when we get there’ sigh? Don’t get too comfortable. The lake isn’t far.” Only a five-minute drive away, almost within walking distance, Abby thought.
They left the township behind and, driving at a sedate pace, Abby took in the pretty scenery of the rolling hills and farms with the mountains as a backdrop.
The annual picnic had been rescheduled and brought forward a month. This had been Joyce Breeland’s idea, saying everyone needed something to keep them busy.
