Plotting for Murder (Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 1)

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Plotting for Murder (Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 1) Page 5

by Tamra Baumann


  I weave my way around the empty little tables and lift a hand in greeting to Zelda behind the counter. “Hi, Z. Is Renee here?”

  “Yep. You can go on back.”

  Zelda’s hair is orange today. Probably on purpose but it could be a dye job gone bad. She’s in her forties, but her fashion always screams sixties bohemian. She’s a free spirit who’s married to an insanely wealthy artist. Why she works in the ice-cream shop is a mystery no one seems to be able to solve.

  I poke the swinging door and make my way past the walk-in freezer and head for the small office in the rear. Before I get there, I spot my pal on a ladder yanking a huge box of sprinkles from a shelf. Renee is one of those people who couldn’t care less what people think of her, and she does what she pleases. She’s tall, tattooed, olive skinned, dark haired, and gorgeous. Today she’s wearing a sexy gauzy shirt, designer jeans, and cute boots that have no business in an ice-cream shop.

  “Hey. How’d the trip go?”

  “Amazing!” Renee swivels her chin over her shoulder and grins. “Found some new candy. Of the man variety. I’m meeting him tonight in the city.”

  “What do we know about this guy? Have you googled him?”

  Renee shakes her head. “He’s the heir to a chocolate bar fortune, and I’ve known his parents for years, but I’d never met their hunky son. I’ll forward you all his deets if that’ll make you feel better, Mother.”

  “It will, thanks.”

  Renee hands me the box of sprinkles. “Then I’ll also forward the same info for Saturday night’s date too.”

  I place the box on a counter. “Did you find any actual new candy at this convention, or were you too busy flirting with guys?”

  She starts down the ladder. “All work and no play, as they say.”

  “And knowing you, you told them both right up front that you aren’t looking for anything serious in a relationship, right?”

  “Why constrain myself to one flavor when there are so many to sample?” She climbs down the rest of the way. “Anyway, enough about me. I heard about poor Chad.” Renee grabs two cinnamon rolls from a rack and hands me one. “What happened?”

  Before I can answer, Zelda calls out, “Speak up or get out here so I can hear too!”

  I want to tell Renee about the note my mother left, but it’ll have to wait. Not that I don’t trust Zelda, but the fewer who know about the hidden things, the better.

  Once we’re all assembled out front, I finish my cinnamon-and-icing treat while I fill the women in on the events of Thursday night.

  When I’m done, Renee frowns. “Do you think it was that customer who was browsing? I’ve known all the others forever. I can’t see any of them committing murder.”

  “I don’t know. And Dylan won’t tell me what he knows.”

  “Crystal could’ve done it.” Zelda crosses her arms. “And here she comes now to pick up her special-order truffles.” Zelda rounds the counter to pack up the order.

  This is my chance to find out what Crystal and Chad were arguing about, so I cross the store to confront her.

  Crystal, with her long curly red hair flowing behind her and her bombshell body barely squeezed into a white shirt and tight jeans, breezes past me as if I don’t exist.

  “Crystal? Can I ask you something about last night?”

  My nemesis stops and huffs out a breath. “Not now.” She turns to Zelda and barks, “Is my order ready? I’m late!”

  “All set, Crystal.” Renee rounds the candy counter and accepts the truffle box from Zelda. As she rings up the sale, she says, “But you snap at one of my employees ever again and you won’t be welcome back. That’ll be twenty-two dollars and fifty-seven cents.”

  “At these prices, I won’t be back!” Crystal throws two twenties and a five on the counter and then glances at me. “What do you want to know, Sawyer?”

  While Renee makes change, I slip beside Crystal. “What were you and Chad arguing about last night? Wade said you wanted him to do the right thing. Are you preg—”

  “It’s none of your business.” Crystal accepts her change, picks up the box, and then pokes me in the shoulder. “Tell your boyfriend it had nothing to do with Chad’s death. And then keep your face out of my business.”

  “Dylan’s not—”

  Crystal bumps me so hard on her way to the front door, I have to take a step back.

  After the door swings closed behind Crystal, Zelda says, “See? Something’s not right with that woman.”

  I have to agree.

  After the last of the dinner dishes are cleared and Wade, who’d decided to join us, has finally left, I grab my sister to talk. “Come with me to the kitchen, please.” Dylan warned me earlier to speak about the details of our weird mystery with only my family, so I’ve been dying to talk to Megan all night. Lance and Dylan are playing cards with the kids, so this is my chance for some privacy.

  My sister smiles. “You and Dylan seem to be getting along better.”

  “That’s only because of the murder at the bookstore last night.”

  My sister blinks rapidly as she sinks into the kitchen nook. “What are you talking about?”

  As I recount the events, my sister slowly drinks her coffee. After I’m finished, she sets her cup down and shivers. “I hope Chad’s death doesn’t have anything to do with what Mom hid.”

  I nod and hand her the letter from my back pocket I’d forgotten was there. “You should read it yourself. And claim half of whatever it is she hid.”

  “Nope.” She shakes her head and quickly reads the letter. After she’s done, she hands it back. “I want you to have your restaurant. Lance and I are fine. Why don’t you tell the Admiral you’ve decided to move away so he’ll tell you where the things are? Then you can move to San Francisco with us and start your restaurant there?”

  “Because then Uncle Frank wins. The trust will go to him, and he’ll get millions that he’ll actually be able to spend, unlike us. Besides, I think I’ve figured out a way for the trust to build me a restaurant without Uncle Frank knowing. And we need a nice dining option in Sunset Cove much more than another in San Francisco.”

  “You’re the smart one in the family. I have no doubt you’ll figure it all out.” My sister, who’s really the smart one in the family, looks more like my dad, with her deep blue eyes and contrasting black hair.

  Her pretty eyes look droopy after her long day at the hospital as she reaches out and takes my hand. “I’ll support whatever you’d like to do, but I’m worried this could become dangerous if others find out about the mystery items. Please think about my offer to live with us. Okay?”

  “I will.” However, not seriously. I’m thirty-two. I’m not going to go live in a spare bedroom at my big sister’s house.

  Lance comes inside the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. “You’re up, Auntie Sawyer. You taught them to play poker, so you let them take your money for a while. They triple their allowance every time I play them.”

  “That’s because you’re bad at bluffing. Help yourself to dessert, you two, while I go win some of Lance’s losses for myself.”

  Lance smiles and heads for the blueberry crumble. “I’m going to have to double my workout tomorrow. It’ll be worth it.” He and Dylan both have the same great smiles and dark hair, and both like to stay fit, but Lance has forgiven their father, while Dylan has hung on to his deep resentment over their father’s so-called part in their mother’s death. Lance always has a smile on his face, while Dylan often seems troubled. I wish Dylan could come to terms with his pain like his brother has.

  I wander into the living room, with its old overstuffed red couches and faded tapestry chairs that belonged to our grandparents. Dylan, Cooper, and the kids sit around a beat-up coffee table on the floor. Alexandra’s coins are stacked the highest, then Dylan’s. So I scoop up a handful of change from the sheriff’s pile. “Thank you very much. Deal me in, Collin.”

  Collin, eight, a dark-haired blue-eyed clone of Dylan excep
t for his missing front teeth, grins. “You’re going down, Aunt Sawyer.”

  Alexandra, ten and a brunette like me, rolls her brown eyes at her brother. “You’ve never beat anyone but Dad. And everyone can beat him.”

  While the kids bicker and the cards are passed out, I turn to Dylan. “What did Gage say when you talked to him about the Admiral?”

  Dylan checks to see that the kids aren’t listening. “He said there are instructions in the Admiral’s will to find a sealed envelope in his safe deposit box upon his death, but he doesn’t know what’s in the envelope. His instructions were that only Zoe’s heirs should open it.”

  Huh. So maybe the secret is still safe after all. “Can we really trust that the Admiral has kept the secret? It’s not like we can ask the others in the book club without giving the secret away, right?”

  Dylan finishes passing out the cards. “There might be a way to ask, but it’s early yet for that. Chad might simply have been getting another beer.”

  Maybe, but there was a cooler out front filled with beer, and he was holding his stomach as if it hurt. “Did Crystal call you this afternoon? Wade told me she was holding something back from you about her fight with Chad.”

  Dylan’s right brow pops as he picks up his cards. “Do you know what the argument was about?”

  I shake my head. “I tried to ask, and all I learned was that Crystal pokes really hard.”

  “That’s why you need to let me do the police work.” Dylan folds. “Sorry, guys. Duty calls.” He pushes his pile of change in front of Collin and then glances at me. “Did Wade mention where he was heading tonight after we ate?”

  I nod and rearrange my two pairs. “Skippy’s to play pool. Ten bucks says you’ll find Crystal there too.”

  While shaking his head, he stands. “I never win when I bet with you. Thanks for dinner. It was amazing.”

  “You’re welcome. And instead of ten bucks when you find Crystal and Wade, will you stay away from my store tomorrow so people will come to fill me in on the gossip? Then we’ll call it even.”

  “Bye, guys.” Dylan kisses the kids on the top of their heads and then turns to me. “If only that were all it’d take to call it even between us.” He walks to the kitchen to say his good-byes.

  I’m not sure Dylan and I could ever go back to what we were. Being friends again is a start.

  Collin says, “How come Uncle Dylan didn’t kiss you on the head too, Aunt Sawyer? Is he mad at you?”

  Alex pokes an elbow into her brother’s side. “Because Aunt Sawyer’s not a kid. That’s why.” Then she turns to me. “Can we spend the night tonight? Please?”

  Collin throws his cards down and jumps into my lap. He bats his eyes as cute as Cooper does. “Yeah. Please? Maybe even the whole weekend? Please?” Cooper can’t stand being excluded and jumps into Collin’s lap.

  My heart melts into a puddle of goo at their sweet request. But then Dylan’s words earlier about locking my doors here until we figure things out makes me reconsider. I can’t risk even the slightest chance of harm coming their way. “Not this weekend, guys, but soon. I promise. Better run to the kitchen now before your dad eats all the blueberry crumble.”

  As the kids and Cooper scamper down the hall, I clean up the cards.

  Am I in danger? Is that why my mom got me a dog? To alert me of intruders?

  A shiver runs up my spine, but I shake it off. I’m newly back home. No one would have any problems with me. Still, I won’t have the kids sleep over until this mess is cleaned up, just to be safe.

  Chapter 5

  On Saturday morning, as Cooper and I walk to my store, I dial Renee’s number. She picks up on the third ring. “Hi, Mom.”

  It makes me laugh. “You didn’t check in with me last night.”

  “Because I didn’t get in until late. Didn’t want to wake you.”

  “A text would’ve worked.”

  “You’d hear the chime. Then you’d wake up to read the text and be mad because you couldn’t go back to sleep.”

  “True. How was your date?”

  “Wonderful. We took his PJ to Napa.”

  “What’s a PJ?”

  “A private jet. He’s a candy bar heir, remember? Now I’m in the middle of getting a massage, though, so I have to let you go. I’ll call you later.”

  “How do I know your date hasn’t taken you hostage and is making you say that?”

  Renee groans.

  I love how exasperated she gets with me and my overly protective nature.

  Finally, my aggravated pal says, “We should have a code. How about ‘Goodbye, Sawyer. Have a nice day.’” She hangs up.

  I’m still smiling as I take out my key to open my store’s front door. The lock won’t turn. I wiggle the key and jiggle it back and forth. Nothing. Maybe I picked up the wrong set of keys? The label scribbled in my mom’s lousy handwriting confirms it’s the spare key for the bookstore. Probably.

  Maybe the key will work in the back door. When I turn to go around the block, I spot a round hole in the farthest pane of glass on my storefront. The hole is bigger than a bullet would leave, thank goodness, but smaller than my fist. The safety glass has held everything in place around the damage.

  When I kneel down to peer inside, I see the offender. It’s a golf ball sitting by the dining area. Maybe some kids were goofing off in the park, but after Chad’s murder, I better take this seriously.

  I say to my dog, who is sitting beside me, “Now we’re going to have to track Dylan down to get my other key back and to report this. And we’re supposed to open in twenty minutes. Who knows if he even works on Saturdays?”

  Cooper’s brows lift as if asking a question.

  “I know. I don’t want to go to his house either. Too many memories there, right? Let’s hope he’s in his office this morning.” I hear that Dylan lives in his parents’ former house. The same house where that birthday-suit situation first happened.

  I spin around and head across the park toward the municipal building that houses all the essential city offices. When Cooper spots a tree with his name on it, he nearly yanks my arm out of its socket.

  “Really? After piddling in my bedroom while I was getting ready and then leaving a deposit right inside the front door before we left too?” Potty training is going to be my number one priority as soon as Chad’s murder is solved. “If you’d do this kind of business when you’re in the backyard rather than dig in my mother’s flower beds, we’d get along just fine.”

  “Hi, Sawyer. I bet you’re looking for these,” Gage says behind me.

  I turn, and he’s holding a shiny set of keys. He smiles like a kid who just got an A on his report card and says, “I took the liberty of having your locks changed this morning. I sent Ed to your house a few minutes ago too.”

  Wait. What? “Why did you do that?”

  “I was worried about you.” He frowns as he drops three sets of keys into my hand. “I thought after what happened, you should have the locks changed. I paid for it all out of the trust fund. Just in case you didn’t have the…” He clears his throat and cuts himself off. “I apologize. I asked the sheriff if he thought it’d be a good idea to change the locks yesterday. When he agreed and said to upgrade the cameras too, I arranged for it as I would have with your mother. Have I upset you?”

  “No, I’m not upset. You just surprised me.”

  He nods. “I’ll be sure to call you first in the future.”

  “Thank you.” Gage took terrific care of my mom. He arranged for her hospice nurse and always looked out for her interests when it came to my bully of an uncle.

  “My pleasure.” Gage’s smile returns. “Should I call Ed and tell him to stop working on the locks at your house?”

  “No. It’s a good idea. Wade is there working today anyway. And the locks are so old, a ten-year-old with a bobby pin could pick them. New cameras at the shop make sense too. Would you arrange for all my commercial properties to have better locks and cameras as well?�


  “First thing on Monday morning.” Gage bends down to pet Cooper but keeps his eyes locked onto mine. “How are you? After what happened?”

  I’m still a little surprised about Gage changing the locks without even talking to me first. However, Mom had given him power of attorney to make those kinds of decisions, and I’ve never changed that.

  Yet, did he really not know what was in the Admiral’s will or was he using that attorney-client rule thing? Was Gage obligated to tell Dylan the truth? If the Admiral had kept quiet, how would Chad have known something was hidden in the storeroom otherwise? I hate to question Gage’s motives, but things still aren’t adding up.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I realize I’ve been so deep in thought, I still haven’t answered Gage’s question. “I’m fine. It’s just a strange thing to have happened to such a nice guy like Chad. You know?”

  Gage’s brows shoot up. “I hate to speak poorly of the dead, but Chad’s reputation wasn’t all that great. Apparently, he wasn’t only providing gardening services during many of his house calls. Maybe a jealous husband or boyfriend was behind his death?”

  There had been that unknown customer who quietly slipped out without buying anything. Could he have been a jealous husband? Or could my mom and Chad have had a fling? During which she told him about the things she hid? No. That doesn’t make sense.

  Shaking my head at all the possibilities, I say, “I was there and still can’t figure out how it could have happened.” I start walking back to my store again, and Gage falls in step.

  He says, “I filed all the paperwork for your restaurant permits yesterday. Guess who showed up in my office two hours later?”

 

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