Plotting for Murder (Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 1)

by Tamra Baumann

  Dylan reemerges and stands close to me by the door. He whispers, “They’re working on him. It doesn’t look good. Chad might have been poisoned. Don’t let anyone leave without talking to me first.”

  “Poisoned? How do you know?” I was the one who fed him. There’s no way it was something I made.

  “You don’t want to know. You’re squeamish.”

  That’s true. Spider guts make me want to puke. I didn’t do so well in my butchering classes at school. I whisper-scream, “You know I didn’t poison him, right?”

  Dylan leans even closer. “I know there’s only one person in this town you’d like to poison. And it’s me.”

  I lift a shoulder. “Nothing as extreme as that. Slow torture, maybe.”

  “You’re doing a good job. Guard the door. Two of my men are on the way.” He starts walking back to the storage room again, and my mind races for ideas about how Chad could have been poisoned. Could it have to do with the fight Chad and Crystal had? But how would Crystal poison him? Was there a needle mark? A chemical absorbed through the skin like those people did to that guy in Malaysia at the airport just by touching his face and then washing their hands? No. I watch too much TV, and my imagination can get way out of hand.

  Who in the group would want to hurt Chad?

  There are too many unknowns.

  Two deputies arrive in plain clothes with their badges tucked into their jeans’ waistbands. One sits with the four book club people gathered on the couches and takes notes, while the other joins the men in the storage room.

  Hugging Cooper closer, I stand guard like I’ve been told to do. Moments later, the paramedics come back out with their kits, their faces solemn. Dylan’s eyes connect with mine, and I know.

  Chad’s dead.

  My knees grow weak, and I have to grab the door handle to stay upright. Dylan is instantly by my side and leads me to one of the chairs in the dining area. “You okay?”

  I shake my head. I can’t take any more death. My Mom’s was devastating, and now Chad? It’s too much.

  Dylan crouches in front of me. “This is a crime scene now, and you’re a witness. Maybe my best witness because I know you’re logical and astute. You don’t miss details.” He stands and finds a pad of paper and a pen at the register. “Write down everything that happened here tonight. Every detail. Nothing’s too small or insignificant. Can you do that for me?”

  I blink at Dylan through my tears. I know him better than anyone else, and he knows me the same. “This is busy work until I can stop freaking out, right?”

  “See?” He grins. “You never miss a detail. I have to go talk to the others now, but I’m serious. I want you to write down everything. Please?”

  “Okay.” I draw a deep breath and try to put all the events of the night in order in my head before I write them down, but I can’t concentrate.

  Death is a strange thing. One minute you can be talking to someone like we were with Chad, and the next moment, they’re gone. It was that way with my mom too. I’d flown in from Chicago, dropped my bags at the front door, and run up the stairs to see her. After she’d asked me to try to live here, I didn’t want to disappoint her and say no. Instead, I tried to distract her.

  I’d been holding her hand and telling her a story about what my sister, who was at the hospital operating but due later, had said my niece and nephew had done the day before. Mom smiled at their antics. Then her grip got a little tighter, and she whispered, “You know I love you, right, Sawyer?”

  I’d said, “Of course. And I love you too. Need anything?”

  She nodded and said, “A chocolate milkshake, please.”

  This was odd because the hospice nurse told me Mom hadn’t eaten much the few days before, but how could I say no? I told her I’d run to the diner and be right back. By the time I got back, she’d died.

  The hospice nurse said this was typical behavior. That patients hold out until all their loved ones get there if they can.

  I hate that I wasn’t with my mom during her final moments. In the end, though, now that I’ve thought about it some more, Mom probably let go while I was gone because she knew me so well. That it would’ve haunted me forever to see her die, because she was the only person in the world, who loved me unconditionally.

  When I finally went to my old bedroom to try to sleep that night, I found my mother had left a sealed envelope for me. Tucked under my pillow. I haven’t opened it yet. It’s like I still have one last chance to talk to her, to hear her words, so I keep putting it off. I probably need to open it soon in case it’s important, but I can’t seem to do it.

  But I’ll never drink another chocolate milkshake as long as I live.

  Chapter 3

  I’m dreaming I’m dancing with a tall, faceless man who has just leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. Then the kiss turns more into a slurp, and I’m pretty sure it’s not my Prince Charming with poor kissing skills anymore. I blink my eyes open. It’s morning and a cute set of brown eyes are staring into mine. “Hi, Cooper.”

  I’d fallen asleep at the shop on a couch while a crime lab from San Francisco did their thing all night long. The shop is quiet now, so everyone must’ve finally left.

  I reach out to pet Cooper. “You probably need to go out.” While wiping Cooper’s drool from my face, I sit up and see Dylan.

  He hands me Cooper’s leash. “He just went. Found his food earlier, so he’s all set. Did you know you snore?” His grin tells me he’s teasing me as usual.

  “No, I don’t.” I rub the sleep from my eyes.

  I have a stress headache and need coffee. As I stumble to the pot that’s full and ready to go, I realize it must be later than I think. The coffee and croissants get delivered every morning at ten. I find my cell that’s almost dead. It’s eleven thirty.

  “Wow. I can’t believe I slept so long.” I glance toward the storage room, and the yellow crime tape is still there. “Has Brittany shown up yet? She’s supposed to be here by ten.” I take a long slug of coffee and nearly sigh as the warm mocha blend slides down my throat.

  Dylan nods. “She got here a half hour ago. I talked to her and then sent her home. I need to talk to you about her.”

  This perks me right up. Or maybe it’s the coffee. “You don’t think she has anything to do with this, do you? She left before everyone ate.”

  “Can’t discuss that. You’re technically a suspect too.”

  “Really? And what would my motive be to kill Chad? I’m mad because he sprayed my mother’s gardens wrong? I just moved here. I have no beef with anyone. And you know it.”

  The corners of his lips tilt. “You’re not high on my list, but you’re still on it. So don’t ask me about suspects or evidence.”

  I pour Dylan a cup of coffee with one cream and a touch of sugar, just the way he likes it. Sucking up will hopefully get me the information I’m dying to know. I need to clear my name and my food as soon as possible.

  I hand him a steaming to-go mug and pick up mine. “Why don’t we walk and talk? I need to go home and get cleaned up before I open the store for the day. Assuming I can do that?”

  He shakes his head. “I need the rest of the day. We’ll clear out by this afternoon.”

  “Okay. I made two batches of food yesterday. One for the store last night, and the other is still home in my fridge. You’re welcome to join me for lunch if you’re not afraid I’ll poison you too.” Crab cakes are one of Dylan’s favorite things. It pays to know way too much about people.

  Dylan smiles as he accepts the coffee. “I should arrest you for attempted bribery. But since I had to send all the leftovers to the lab last night and I didn’t get to taste the crab cakes, let’s go.”

  I pick up Cooper’s bag, find my purse, and lock the doors behind us. Then I hand Dylan my key so he can come back later. “I have an extra at home.”

  Cooper, Dylan and I start for my house, which is only a few blocks up the hill. I draw in a deep breath of the salty breeze
as we climb the steep sidewalks. The fresh, cool ocean air here always relaxes me. I’d forgotten that part. “What do you want to know about Brittany?”

  “Do you recall who was with her in the showroom right before you closed? Just before the club members arrived?”

  “Yeah.” I chase behind Cooper, who is a terrible leash walker. “A man I didn’t recognize, dark hair, average height, wearing khakis and a green polo shirt, and Crystal. Chad and Crystal were having some sort of disagreement, and then she left. I didn’t see the man leave.”

  “And Brittany put the entirety of the food out for you while you were in the back?”

  The coffee in my gut turns on me a bit. “Yes.” And that had been unusual. For her to pitch in like that went against the norm. She’s a pain sometimes, but I know in my heart she’s a good kid. “We all served ourselves, and as far as I know, no one else got sick. And I was the one who dished up a plate for her and her mother. It doesn’t make sense she’d do anything to the food, then leave and hope the right person ate it. If that’s your theory.”

  “It’s not, Sherlock.” Dylan takes the leash from my hand and tightens up the length. Amazingly, Cooper steps right in line for him. Traitor dog.

  He says, “I watched the security camera footage last night, and I can’t see when the unknown customer left either. You need to upgrade your ancient equipment and your wireless speed. The picture freezes for huge gaps in time. And put cameras in the stockroom. Employee theft is common.”

  I laugh. “Somehow I don’t think Brittany is going to steal one of the books back there. She reads comic books about half-dressed aliens.”

  “Upgrade them anyway. Might be something valuable back there.”

  “Wait. What?” I stop in my tracks. “Why do you think that?”

  “You’ll find this part out soon enough, but Chad wasn’t anywhere near the bathroom when he died. The Admiral has an interesting theory about that.”

  “The Admiral is delusional. As far as I can see, it’s all just old books.” I’m asking Brittany if she’s heard this rumor first thing tomorrow, though.

  We start walking again toward my old Victorian money pit. As much of a pain as it is to maintain it, I’ve come to appreciate its old bones and classic lines. I’d like it better if everything worked, but I can only handle one challenge at a time. When we arrive at my house, we climb the wooden steps that badly need paint and find the front door is slightly ajar.

  Dylan throws an arm out to stop me. “Did you leave this unlocked?” He leans closer, probably looking for jimmy marks.

  “No.” I push his arm aside and open the door the rest of the way. “Wade is here most days working on the rotting wood and staircase. He might have eaten your crab cakes by now too. He tends to make himself right at home.”

  Dylan frowns at this news but grabs my arm to stop me so he can enter first. “Stay behind me.”

  I roll my eyes. “Such a drama queen. This is Sunset Cove, not Chicago.”

  “And you had a dead body in your bookstore last night.”

  The man makes a good point. I call out, “Wade? Are you here?”

  Dylan shoots me another frown. I suppose he hoped to catch an intruder red-handed for a change. It is Sunset Cove, and those types don’t come along often. Must get boring for a former army sniper turned sheriff at times.

  “Be right there.” Sounds of Wade descending his creaky ladder confirm my theory. The guy can’t shut a door behind him to save his life.

  When Wade meets us in the foyer, Cooper yelps and moves behind me.

  Wade kneels and says, “Hi, buddy. Sorry, I yelled at you last night.” Then he looks up at me and grins. Wade reminds me of a blond surf bum I once knew. “I didn’t realize it was your dog, Sawyer. I thought it was a stray who’d wandered in. I apologize for scaring him.”

  Cooper isn’t accepting the apology—he’d been terrified last night—but I will. Wade has been nothing but kind to me. “No worries. Want some lunch? I was going to heat some crab cakes for the sheriff.”

  “Um. No, thanks. I’m good.” Wade’s sheepish smile tells me he’s already been in my fridge today. Or is afraid of my crab cakes.

  Wade’s grin fades as he turns to Dylan. “Any more news?”

  “Not yet. Have to wait for lab results. You and Chad have been friends forever. Any idea what he might have been looking for in the storeroom?”

  Wade shrugs. “He was sort of near the fridge area, so maybe another beer? If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know. Enjoy your lunch, guys.” He winks at me before he leaves like it’s going to be something more than lunch.

  Which it’s not.

  I shake my head and walk down the long hallway to the back, where the one nice room of the house is. My mother had the kitchen gutted and remodeled last year. She’d asked me for a ton of advice about appliances, cabinets, countertops, and pantry space before she told me she was dying of cancer. Probably wanted to give me one more reason to stay here after she was gone.

  I say to Dylan, who’s trailing behind, “You might as well just tell me what everyone said last night. They’ll all stop in tomorrow out of sheer curiosity anyway. It is a murder mystery book club. It’s what they live for.”

  Dylan sits down in the built-in nook to take off Cooper’s leash. “Nope. Not happening.”

  Stubborn. However, my crab cakes might still do the trick.

  I open the big stainless-steel fridge and hope they’re still there. “Oh, look. Wade ate the leftover fajitas. You’re in luck.” I pull out the tray of crab cakes and sides. Then I set them on the stone countertop.

  “Probably didn’t want to risk dying too. Have you been through all your mother’s paperwork from the store? And her personal papers too?” Dylan plays with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. He has a habit of fiddling with whatever is nearby when something is bothering him. Or when he’s about to break up with me. Too late for the latter. Been there done that.

  “Yes. That’s part of what I was talking to Gage about yesterday, why?” Well, there was the envelope my mom left me, but that’s private, between her and me. And I’d only gotten three-quarters through the trust before it bored me to sleep. But Gage has filled me in now.

  “Mind if I look through her study? See if I find anything you might have missed?”

  “Actually, I do mind.” I turn on the heating drawer on my commercial-grade oven and place the leftovers packed in an aluminum tray inside. “Unless you’d like to tell me what you’re looking for.”

  Dylan’s lips thin. “I can get a search warrant if I have to. Can’t we do this the easy way? For a change?”

  I didn’t miss the last part. He thinks I’m difficult for refusing to have a romantic relationship with him again. I think I’m a saint for even speaking to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome at all. However, a search warrant means he has a real reason to look. Maybe my crab cakes aren’t going to do the trick after all.

  “I’m not trying to be difficult.” I slide in the nook across from Dylan. “You work for the mayor’s office. And there are papers in the study that are none of the mayor’s business. You know Uncle Frank wants me and the bookstore to fail so I’ll leave and then he’ll get the trust money.”

  My new dog jumps up on Dylan’s leg and lays his teddy bear face on Dylan’s knee. Then Cooper bats his eyes in a coquettish way.

  Dylan falls for the act and sets the dog in his lap. “Are you suggesting your uncle had something to do with staging a murder at your store?”

  I wouldn’t entirely put it past the guy. “No. I don’t want to give my uncle any more ammunition. You knew Mom. She wasn’t good about following rules, and she hated any interaction with Uncle Frank. Which she’d have to have done to keep her properties up to code.”

  Dylan opens his mouth, but I raise a hand to stop him. “I’m taking steps to rectify the health and safety stuff, I promise. It’ll all be fixed soon. I’m asking what you’re looking for so you don’t see something you can’t u
nsee. And feel compelled to be your rule-following self and report it.”

  He runs a hand down his face. “How long before the repairs to the commercial properties are done?”

  “Three weeks. Maybe four. I promise, no one is going to die from what’s left to fix. It’s mostly plumbing and sewer stuff.” Mostly. I won’t talk about the leaking roofs right now. Hopefully, it won’t rain anytime soon.

  Dylan’s phone rings, and he takes the call while I ponder all the events from the night before. I still don’t see how someone could have poisoned Chad. Unless it’d happened during the commotion with Cooper wrapping everyone up in yarn. I was pretty busy cutting people loose, so I wouldn’t have noticed.

  After a series of “yeahs” and grunts, Dylan finally hangs up and puts his cell away. “Sorry. That was the lab making excuses for why they can’t get the results back any faster. Where were we?”

  “I was reassuring you that all my buildings will be up to code in no time, and you were about to tell me what everyone said about last night.”

  “Nice try.” He runs the salt and pepper shakers that look like sumo wrestlers around in circles again. My mother’s taste in knickknacks had never been the best. Finally, he says, “Did you tell your mom you’d never move back here?”

  “Yes. However, she asked me to try to live here the day she died. So here I am.”

  He nods. “That makes more sense of what the Admiral told me about something valuable in your storage room. I’ll hold off on her office for now. No promises for later.”

  “Thank you.” I take the food out of the oven and make us both a plate of crab cakes, truffle mac and cheese, and spicy corn on the cob. I slide his meal in front of him while I plug in my cell that’s about to die, and then join him. “You know this is going to make me go ransack my mom’s office the second you leave.”