It had been a chilling moment. And I love lambs.
So… yeah. Wallace’s presence in the coffee shop that morning transformed my trickle of palm sweat into a flash flood. Fortunately, Brian was far more relaxed about his unruly customer.
“Hey man, we’re kind of in the middle of something here,” Brian said.
“Hey man, do you think I care? I need the strongest cup of Joseph that you got!”
“Do you mean you want a cup of joe?” Brian asked, with saintly patience.
Wallace smacked the counter once more. “I don’t have money to pay for it but I’ll leave if you give it to me for free.”
Brian shook his head. “I told you last time, man. I don’t appreciate those threats. If you need a cup of coffee, I’d be more than happy to give it to you on the house.”
“Then do it already! La-di-da, la-di-da. Enough singing songs. The only song I want to hear is the sound of pouring coffee. Yum yum I need it now!” Wallace threw his head back and cackled, sending the nervous patrons a couple steps back.
As I watched Wallace wait for his coffee, I felt a warm pang of sympathy in my stomach. Wallace scared me, for sure. And he could be mean. But he was clearly troubled. And few people treated him as kindly as Brian did.
Everyone in the Brown Cow breathed a collective sigh of relief upon Wallace’s departure. But no one seemed to remember the light-hearted mystery of the sticky notes, until Miss May stepped forward to break the ice. “So do you all want to know who played the practical joke, or not?”
The patrons of the shop turned back to Miss May, with renewed interest on their faces.
Miss May took a step toward the elderly woman who had requested the selfie earlier. “Is that your table by the window? With all the teabags on it?”
The old lady smiled. “Yes. I love tea.”
“You’ve been here quite a while then, haven’t you?” Miss May returned the woman’s smile.
“You could say that.”
“Turn your palms up for me, ma’am?”
The woman complied without remark. Miss May rubbed the tips of the woman’s fingers, then my aunt looked up with a grin.
“Just as I thought,” Miss May said. “Your fingers are sticky. I felt it when you put your arm around me for our photo earlier. It felt almost like…you’d been handling sticky paper all morning. Would you be willing to open your purse for me, ma’am?”
The elderly woman broke into a broad smile. She opened her purse and inside were hundreds of sticky note pads.
“Show everyone what we’re looking at?” Miss May requested. The woman held out her bag and turned in a slow circle for everyone to see. This old lady was the guilty party, and she was proud of it.
The patrons of the Brown Cow clapped and laughed, impressed by Miss May’s sleuthing.
“Let me guess,” Miss May said. “You heard that Chelsea and I come here most weekend mornings. You read it in the Gazette. In one of Liz’s articles about us. And you figured you would come by and try to create a mystery for us to solve in real time.”
The woman grinned. “That’s exactly right, girly. And I saw the sticky note prank online! It just happened to work out perfectly that Brian here is already a fiend for the little yellow squares! How did you know all that?”
“Hunch,” Miss May said. “And you’ve got two issues of the Pine Grove Gazette on your table, both of which are open to articles about Chelsea and me.”
More applause rippled through the room.
“Drats,” the old woman said. “I did myself in.”
“You had help on that front,” Miss May said. “Your accomplices? Rita and Willow? They kept shooting looks over to you as I was investigating behind the register.”
Rita slapped her knee. “Darn! I gave it away? That’s why I can’t go to Atlantic City. I’ve got no poker-face! I say I’m just going to go and watch the Blue Man Group and I end up losing my shirt at the tables. That’s it for me! I don’t care how blue those guys are. Or how bald! Or how cute!
“You think the guys in the Blue Man Group are cute?” I asked. “They’re all bald and blue.”
Rita smirked. “Blue is my favorite color.”
I laughed, but my jovial mood faded as I noticed an angry mob marching down Main Street past the shop. I turned to Miss May. “Do you see that?”
Miss May nodded. She ambled toward the main window, and the other patrons and I crowded behind her. We watched as the angry mob gathered a few storefronts down. They were chanting something but I couldn’t make out the words.
Miss May turned to me. “Let’s go see what that’s all about.”
2
Blueprint Blues
Miss May I hurried toward the angry mob, followed by a few curious patrons from the Brown Cow.
As we got closer, I saw that the “mob” was just three or four people, yelling at one man: infamous local real estate developer, Hank Rosenberg.
Hank, early 60s, was tan and bowling-ball-bald. His custom suit strangled his biceps like a python eating a donkey. And he grinned as he addressed the crowd.
“You people can moan and groan as much as you want. See the name on that building? Rosenberg. I own it and I can tear it down if I so choose. I’m the golden goose. I lay the golden eggs. All you people, you lay regular eggs. Good for breakfast, maybe. But only worth their weight in eggs.”
Arthur, the short and compact owner of the Pine Grove gas station, shoved his way through the crowd like a bulldozer. “Ingrate! Coward! You need approval to do something like this. It doesn’t matter who owns the building.”
“And I have approval,” Rosenberg said. “From the mayor. See, me and Linda Delgado? We go way back. Back to the track. Going, going, going gone. End of story.”
“Stop talking like that,” Arthur said. “Pine Grove is too small for a Massive Mart. You bring something like that here? You’ll ruin this town forever.”
“Want to know what I think, brother? I think I ‘m going to need bigger pants after I shove all this new money in my pockets. And I think you’re going to thank me for bringing so many jobs to this community.”
Teeny pushed her way to the front of the line. “Why are you shoving the money in your pockets? Why don’t you get a bank account? You’re a crook, that’s why!”
“The bank account doesn’t matter, Teeny,” Arthur said. “What matters is that we already have jobs in this town. We have a florist. And a pizzeria. And a butcher shop. All locally owned. Like they should be. Heck! Right here in this complex we have Big Dan, the best mechanic in all the land. And Master Skinner. His dojo is always packed with karate kids!”
“Get over it, man!” Rosenberg laughed. “You say this town doesn’t need a Massive Mart? You say your businesses are successful? Why aren’t there more people here to protest? I don’t see any ‘Master Skinner’ here. Do you? And what about this Big Dan clown? He’s not here.”
“It’s Sunday,” Arthur said. “Most businesses in Pine Grove are closed Sundays. And that’s exactly the kind of small-town atmosphere we’re trying to protect.”
“That ‘small town atmosphere’ is the enemy of capitalism, you fool!” Hank snorted. “My Massive Mart will be open 365 days a year. Including Christmas! Especially Christmas! And it will the biggest, most beautiful structure this town has ever seen. Imagine it with me… On this very ground will soon be erected the most magnificent shopping mecca in the history of time. Four stories of cinderblock and steel. Three hundred parking spaces illuminated by the brightest lights allowable by law. And inside? A single location where shoppers can procure everything from frozen Tilapia, to tires, to ninety-six rolls of toilet paper in one fell swoop.”
“What kind of animal needs 96 rolls of toilet paper?” Arthur turned to the rest of the crowd. “If he brings that place here, we’re going to lose our local businesses! We’re going to lose our homes. And Pine Grove as we know it will be a thing of the past!”
“This conversation is about to be a thing of the pas
t, sir,” Rosenberg said. “I’m building the world’s biggest swimming pool in New Jersey today. Need to get over there. Tore down an elementary school and a hospital to make space for the pool. It’s going to be glorious. Beautiful. The best swimming pool you’ve ever imagined. You can take a dip there, if you say you’re sorry first.”
“You can’t do this,” Teeny said.
Rosenberg shrugged. “This old building comes down in three days. Please direct any further questions you may have to my associate, Sudeer. He’s a Pine Grove resident, if you didn’t know that already. So at least one person here thinks I’m a genius. Bye now.”
Rosenberg climbed into a luxury electric car and hummed away in silence. As soon as he left, every eyeball in the crowd turned to Rosenberg’s slight and kindly associate, Sudeer Patel.
Arthur and the others erupted with questions. Sudeer held up his hand to silence the crowd but the protestors only got louder.
After about thirty seconds of utter mayhem, Miss May nudged Sudeer aside. She grabbed a nearby milk crate and climbed on top.
“Everybody be quiet!”
Zip. Silence.
“Thank you. Goodness! This is not how we handle our problems in Pine Grove. Arthur. Teeny. You know that. Have we ever done things this way?”
Arthur and Teeny cast their eyes downward.
“I didn’t think so,” Miss May said. “Now. We’re all together on this. So we’re going to form a united front. Sudeer: is it true Rosenberg is not going to tear the building down for another three days?”
Sudeer nodded.
“Good. Tomorrow night we’ve got an open town hall meeting. Just like every Monday night. Let’s get organized. Our first step is to convince the mayor that this is a bad idea. If that doesn’t work, we’re going to keep protesting and we’re going to make noise. Liz: do you have contacts in national news?”
Liz, the editor and only reporter of the Pine Grove Gazette, stepped forward. “I went to graduate school with someone who is now the editor of a major national newspaper. He’s been following the work I do in the Gazette and he often sends me texts about my great and important work. The man loves a good story. If I give him the scent of this stinky fish? He’ll run with it.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” Teeny said. “Can you get national news to pick this up or not?”
“I can and I will.” Liz said, standing tall.
“Good.” Miss May turned back to the crowd. “Now for the rest of you. Throughout all of this, let’s impress ourselves. We must remain civil. And peaceful. And please, can we stop attacking Sudeer?”
“But he’s supposed to be one of us,” Arthur said. “And he didn’t even tell us about this plan. We had to find out about it on Rosenberg’s website.”
“Sudeer has three little mouths to feed,” Miss May said. “No one can fault him for doing his job.”
Sudeer sighed. “Actually, baby number four is on the way.”
I cringed. That’s a lot of dirty diapers…
“Hear that?” Miss May said. “This man is about to be a father of four. And he’s already exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes have dark circles of their own. Cut him a break.”
“Thanks,” Sudeer said. “I think.”
Miss May patted Sudeer on the back. “Congratulations.”
Sudeer mustered a meek smile. It looked like the effort might make him faint.
Miss May turned back to the crowd. “So I’ll see all of you at the town hall meeting tomorrow night?”
The members of the no-longer-angry mob nodded.
“Good.” Miss May turned to Sudeer. “Tell your boss he better come ready for a fight.”
Want to know what happens next?
BERRIED ALIVE is available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.
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You’ll love this cozy because everyone loves a cozy with smart sleuths and warm, fuzzy feelings.
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A Note From the Authors
Dear Readers,
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Hi! We're married writing team Chelsea and Matthew Thomas, AKA “Chelsea Thomas.” And we appreciate you reading this book!
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We know you have tons of options when it comes to cozies, and we're grateful that you decided to join us for a little while in Pine Grove.
* * *
When we started writing our first cozy mystery, we were living in Los Angeles, 3,000 miles from our families and most of our friends. It's been a few months since then, and we are happy to say we've moved back to East Coast and we're loving it.
* * *
Our journey started with a cross-country drive from Los Angeles to Florida. We stopped in Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, South Carolina, North Carolina and Florida. There's so much America out there to see, and it was a privilege to experience.
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We got to spend the next month living in a small town in Florida with Chelsea's parents. Chelsea got to spend Thanksgiving Day with them for the first time in over ten years, and we enjoyed every moment of our time there. Including trips to a cozy Irish pub, local theater, and plenty of shopping trips around the neighborhood.
Oh! And we wrote a lot of this book – "Candy Apple Killer" – during our time in Florida.
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Easily one of our happiest writing experiences. And one of the warmest, too.
* * *
After our Florida visit, we drove up to Pennsylvania to meet our new nephew, Teddy. We arrived in Pennsylvania on a Thursday night. Matt's parents and sisters arrived the next day. And his oldest sister gave birth to Teddy at around 2 AM Saturday.
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We may be biased…but Teddy just might be the cutest baby on the face of the universe. We are a proud Aunt Chelsea and Uncle Matty, and we can't wait to spend more time with him.
* * *
After spending some quality Teddy time, we drove up to NY, and that's where we've been for the last couple weeks. The town Matt is from in NY is one of the coziest, especially in the winter.
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We're writing this from a coffee shop as big, fat, fuzzy snowflakes flutter to the ground outside. The snowflakes look like they're in slow motion (or should we say snow-motion). That's how big they are.
* * *
Seriously, though. It's great to be in NY, and not just for the big snowflakes. Matt has lots of family up here.
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Parents, sisters, aunts, and uncles. Plus his 'baby' cousins are headed to college next year! We're both happy to get to spend quality time in the great white north while we can.
* * *
Not a day goes by that we don't take a moment and reflect on how lucky we are. We get to write for a living, first of all. That's a dream come true. And we get to write from all over the country and spend time with our friends and family in the process.
* * *
You, the readers, are a huge part of what makes that possible. So thank you for reading! And if you feel inclined, please don't hesitate to leave a review on Amazon. Even short reviews help a ton, and we'd love to know what you thought of this book.
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Remember, if you'd like to stay up to date with us, get free cozies, and gain access to some great giveaways…
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Join the Chelsea Thomas Reader Club
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Thanks for reading!
Chelsea and Matt
Also by Chelsea Thomas
Thank you for reading this apple orchard cozy mystery box set. We hope you enjoyed it. There are lots more stories in this series that take you even deeper into Pine Grove. Check them out!
* * *
You already read the beginning of book four, BERRIED ALIVE. You’ll love the rest of that story because it’s filled with unexpected twists and turns.
* * *
And you’d also love book five, GRANNY SMITH IS DEAD. That one’s got revolutionary war conspiracy, intrigue and more mystery than a
ny book so far!
* * *
The cozy goodness has just begun, so grab your next apple orchard adventure below.
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Tap the links below to grab the books from Amazon.
BERRIED ALIVE (BOOK 4)
GRANNY SMITH IS DEAD (BOOK 5)
About the Author
Chelsea Thomas is married writing team Chelsea and Matthew Thomas. Chelsea and Matthew are screenwriters and mystery authors. They live and write in Peekskill, NY.
For more information:
www.chelseathomasauthor.com
[email protected]
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Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery series Box Set 1 Page 51
