A Southern Charms Cozy Potluck Box Set

by Bella Falls

  “Are you?” Mason stepped close enough I could feel the heat from his body. “Because I told you that I didn't want any more walls between us. You could have told me your suspicions about Tucker but you chose not to say anything and cut me out of your own personal investigation.”

  “That's not what I was doing,” I defended. “And you said you didn't want to talk about the case.”

  The detective held up his finger. “Do not think you're getting off so easily by throwing in a technicality. You had plenty of time yesterday when we were together and could have told me what you thought about Tucker.” He glanced out the window. “When we went to Lucky's, did you already suspect him?”

  I dropped my eyes to the floor. “Yes.”

  “And you kept that to yourself?”

  I wanted to defend myself. I wanted him not to look with me with crushing disappointment in his eyes. But I had no defense, and needed to take the consequences of my choices. “You're right. I should have told you.”

  Mason blew out a hot breath. “What were you thinking, Charli?”

  Unable to take the guilt, I blurted everything out. “I was thinking that even though we are no longer together and I am not in love with him that I still care about Tucker’s future. And I care about my cousin’s happiness. I guess I wanted to clear him of any part in all of this before I said anything to a warden. And I was wrong. I'm sorry,” I ended on a whisper.

  Closing my eyes, I waited for him to continue yelling or to walk away. The light stroke of the back of his fingers on my cheek startled me.

  He spoke in a low voice. “If we have any chance, we have got to start trusting each other.”

  My breath caught in my throat. When he pulled away, I felt the acute absence of his touch. “Do you mean personally or professionally?”

  Hollis barged into his son's house with a loud bang. “What in tarnation is goin’ on here?” he bellowed.

  Tucker emerged from the kitchen with Clementine hot on his heels. “Father, what are you doing here so early?”

  “When you have a number of people crashing your house at once in the early mornin’, it tends to get noticed by your neighbors. My question is, what are they doing here?” Hollis pointed to Mason and me.

  The detective took a step away, allowing his professionalism to take command of the situation. “We’re here to question your son. It seems he has some connection to the murder victim.”

  Hollis narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. “My son won't be answering anything right now. In fact, I suggest you leave the premises immediately.”

  Tucker took a step toward his father. “Dad, I think—”

  “You need to stop thinkin’ and stop talkin’.” He reached into his back pocket and plucked out his wallet. Opening it, he pulled out a card. “You may contact Jed if you want to talk to Tucker. Without an advocate present, he has nothing to say to you. Please leave.”

  “I think this is your son's house,” I challenged.

  Hollis cocked an eyebrow at Tucker, and his son bent his head in submission. “Please, go.”

  Mason placed a hand at the small of my back, urging me to the door. “Until you hear otherwise, do not leave Honeysuckle,” he directed at Tucker. We both walked down the steps outside.

  Hollis watched from the doorway, his eyes sunken with dark circles beneath them. “My son will be getting married shortly. He will not be going anywhere. If you need people to interrogate, perhaps you should be lookin’ at who would be upset about a new restaurant openin’ up in town. Rivalry can be a big motivator, don't you think?” He let the storm door close with a click and stared at us through the glass pane.

  I grabbed my bike from where I'd dropped it in the bushes. “I suppose you want me to go home now?” I asked Mason.

  The corner of his lip curled up. “Are you trying to read my mind now?”

  “No, I just assumed.” I shrugged.

  “Well, don't do that.” He opened his car door. “That'll get you into hot water, too. I was going to tell you to meet me at the Harvest Moon. I’ll buy you some breakfast, and then we can question a couple of people who work there.”

  My embarrassment and shame evaporated. “You still want me to work the case with you?”

  “Remember, I said we needed to trust each other. This is me trusting you.”

  He was offering me a second chance, and I grabbed onto it with both hands. “I might even beat you there because I can take some shortcuts,” I teased, ringing the little bell on my handlebars.

  “You're on.” He winked and got into his vehicle.

  I threw my legs over my bike and almost took off, but Clementine called out my name, running down the front steps toward me and holding onto my arm once she made it. “You need to continue helping Tucker,” she said in a breathless voice.

  I patted her hand. “I swear to you, Clem, what you saw in there wasn't what it looked like.”

  “I know. I overheard what you said to the detective, and I believe you. He needs you to solve the murder. If you do, then he'll be free.” Her big eyes glanced at me with so much hope.

  “You realize we might discover that he did it?” I cringed at my question.

  She nodded. “My heart says he didn’t, but I think you need to prove whether or not that's true. I'll help him face it one way or another. I love him, Charli,” she gushed.

  Hopping off the bike and letting it drop to the ground, I wrapped my cousin in a tight hug. “I know you do. I'll do what I can,” I promised.

  Her stiff body relaxed for a second, and she returned the embrace. I let her go before her shyness took over, giving her a slight wave and taking off to meet Mason at the cafe.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Every time Sassy came to refill our cups of coffee, she shook like a leaf on a tree in a hurricane. It was a wonder more of her green dust didn't settle into our drinks. Whenever Steve rang the bell for her to pick up an order, she jumped.

  Mason and I ate our breakfast in relative silence. The embarrassment of how he found me at Tucker's place along with my choice not to share my concerns about my ex-fiancé with the man who’d told me everything about his former ex still burned. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Mason stole a piece of my bacon, and I stayed quiet. When he went after the only other strip on my plate, I let him have it.

  “Oh, come on. You can’t let me get away with all your bacon.” He tried to give it back.

  Relieved that he was joking, I stole the bacon off of his plate and crunched on it. “Have you noticed how uncomfortable Sassy is?” I asked in a low voice.

  Without turning his head, he agreed. “She keeps looking over at us. I think that group of retirees over there are tired of having coffee spilled on their food.”

  Not as skilled at the stealthy stalking, Sassy caught me looking at her and stuck her tongue out. “Do we question her here and now?”

  Mason blew on his coffee. “I didn't think this through. It's a busy time for the cafe, and we can't pull her or Steve away from their service without it getting noticed. Maybe we should finish our breakfast and convene somewhere else to make a plan for the day,” the detective suggested.

  “Sassy,” yelled Steve from the kitchen. “You gonna pick up this order or what? Soon it'll be colder than a dead body.”

  The entire place came to an awkward silent standstill. “What is it with bad choices of words these days?” I uttered, buttering my last piece of toast and sorting through the basket of little jelly packets.

  “Here, take the rest of my strawberry.” Mason pushed the half-filled container at me.

  “There you go again, finishin’ my thought before I have it.” It comforted me to know that whatever we were to each other, our connection hadn’t been permanently severed by my bad decision.

  “I told you before, I'm a detective and very observant. That's all.” He ate a bite of eggs with a grin.

  Plates and glasses crashed onto the floor and a couple of patrons groaned.
Steve fussed at the fairy through the pass-through, and Sassy did her best to clean up the mess.

  “That's it.” The cook pushed the swinging door open and stomped his way until he stood in front of us at the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. “You two are messin’ up the flow. You’re makin’ my one waitress jumpy. You got questions? Spit them out and be done.”

  Mason took out his notebook and pencil. “Can you tell me where you were—”

  “I was at Lucky's playin’ cards and winnin’ money off of that idiot over there.” Steve pointed at Henry, who pointed at himself, batting his eyes with dramatic innocence.

  The owner of the cafe rolled his eyes at his friend. “We were there from after closin’ the cafe around ten until a little after midnight. Better to leave the card table while you're up, not when you're broke.”

  The detective took notes. “Did you go home after that?”

  Steve grunted in affirmation. “Henry escorted me home. And my wife can vouch for my arrival and me bein’ there the rest of the night. Are we done?”

  Mason put his notebook away. “I’ll have to verify the timing and talk to your wife, but yes, I think that's it.”

  Steve took the towel slung over his shoulder in his hand and wiped sweat from his brow. “Sassy,” he barked.

  The fairy squeaked and floated over to her boss. “Yes?” Her voice trembled.

  “These two are gonna ask you some questions. Y'all go out into the side alley so these nosy nimrods don't overhear and spread lies when they flap their gums.” He aimed an intentional glare at Henry, who continued his innocent act.

  Sassy did her best to smile. “I don't know why they need to talk to me,” she insisted.

  Steve placed a hand on his hip. “Maybe it's because you were talking to the dead man about a job.”

  All color drained from Sassy’s face, and I worried that the green would leak out of her hair. “You knew I talked to Duke?”

  “I know you’re overworked here after Blythe left. And maybe I haven't been a good boss, not helpin’ someone else to pick up shifts.” Steve held up his hand, ticking off his list on his fingers. “You’re overworked, underpaid, and a single man walked into town with a new restaurant openin’. I'd think you'd lost your marbles if you hadn't talked to him, Sass.”

  The fairy trembled but looked up at her boss with hope. “You're not mad at me?”

  Steve straightened and patted her on the top of her green head. “I’ll only be mad if it turns out you did kill him and leave me without a waitress. Go talk to them, and then come back and finish the breakfast service. Maybe after that, we can talk about givin’ you a raise and findin’ someone else to help.”

  Sassy threw her arms around the gruff man’s neck. He coughed from all the green dust flying in the air, but didn’t pull away. Mason slapped some money on the counter to pay for our breakfasts and asked the fairy to come outside.

  Sassy followed behind me, her wide eyes full of fear. We went out the heavy metal side door into the alley and morning heat.

  The fairy glanced back and forth between Mason and me, frowning. “Why does she have to be here?”

  “I’m the one asking the questions,” insisted Mason. “Where were you two nights ago?”

  Sassy cast a mean side eye at me. “Her friend quit leaving me all of her shifts and forcing me to close.”

  Mason took notes on his pad. “What time did you leave?”

  “Around eleven, after I finished setting up for the morning crowd,” she answered. “I went to Lucky’s bar for an hour before going home.”

  The detective asked, “Can someone confirm the hour you arrived there?”

  “I live by myself.” She crossed her tiny arms. “You know, it's no wonder someone tried to attack that chef. Anyone who would help him or let him rent the space is a traitor to our town.” She shot me a hateful glance.

  “You're suggesting someone killed Duke to protect the cafe?” Mason led her.

  Realizing her mistake, Sassy backtracked. “No, that's not what I'm saying. I know Mr. Steve wouldn't like it, and a new restaurant might take business away from him.”

  Mason jotted some things down. “Then you’re accusing your boss of murder?”

  Sassy's wings trembled and green dust wafted off of them. “You’re intentionally misunderstanding me. Somebody didn’t want Duke here or why would they hit him over the head?”

  Unable to stay quiet any longer, I jumped in. “How did you know there were head wounds, Sass?”

  “I heard someone talking about it?” Her tiny voice trembled as hard as her bottom lip, and she cracked. “All right. I admit I was there. But I swear to you, I found him lying on the floor. I didn't do anything other than enter the old diner.”

  “What were you doing there in the first place?” Mason pressed.

  “Mr. Steve was right, I was trying to convince Duke that I could work for him over at Lucky’s. I talked to him before he went back to play cards and offered him my services to make dessert for his new business.” The fairy hung her head in shame.

  “You were voluntarily going to leave the cafe. Who's the traitor now, Sass?” I accused.

  Large tears rolled down her cheeks. “I thought he was cute and that maybe if he worked with me and saw how good I am at baking, that he…” An uncontrolled sob interrupted her.

  “You thought maybe he’d like you,” I finished.

  She nodded her head, her green ponytail shaking. “I wasn’t going to quit the cafe. But I wanted my chance at finding a guy. They shouldn’t all belong to one person.” Sassy glanced at me through tear-soaked lashes.

  She wiped the wet streaks under her eyes and pleaded with the detective. “I really did head home after Lucky kicked me out of The End, but the more I thought about Duke’s rejection of my proposition, the more it made me mad. I don’t know what possessed me to return to Main Street, but I saw the light on at the old diner. I thought maybe if I tried one more time, Duke might reconsider.”

  “You entered into an empty business space some time in the middle of the night by yourself.” Mason’s tone sounded close to the one he used with me when I did something he didn’t approve of.

  Sassy grabbed his hand to stop him from writing. “I know it sounds crazy, but I swear to you, I didn't kill him. When I saw him lying on the floor, I did flit over to see if he was still breathing. I thought I heard someone else in the room so I fled.”

  “Why didn't you call the wardens?” I asked.

  Fresh tears flowed. “Because I knew what it would look like, and I’d end up being accused of murder.” She sobbed so hard I almost gave her a pity hug out of principle.

  For all of the guff the little fairy gave me on a regular basis, she didn’t deserve my sympathy. However, knowing Sassy as I did, it was more believable she was a victim of the circumstances of her own making.

  She jumped when the side door banged open. Steve took a long gander at the three of us. “There are orders waitin’,” he muttered and left.

  “Can I go now, Detective?” asked Sassy.

  Mason ended the interview. “Don't leave town. If you could, will you bring us out two cups of sweet tea to go?” He took out his wallet from his back pocket.

  Sassy refused payment. “Be right back.”

  I digested the fairy’s answers. “That explains why we found her dust.”

  “If you believe what she says. But it doesn't totally exonerate her,” finished Mason. “This case is full of too many holes and not enough solutions. I guess we have more work to do.”

  “We?” I checked.

  The side of his mouth quirked up. “Yes, we. You and me.”

  Sassy returned with our sweet tea, and I thought of one more thing before she left.

  “Hey, Sass. Did you hear any kind of scream or shriek that night?”

  She pondered the question. “Yes, before I made it to Main Street. It was an odd sound that pierced the night. Is that important?”

  “It is.” I waved
at her with genuine gratitude. “Thanks.”

  Alone again, Mason pulled out his pad and pencil. “Tell me why it’s important.”

  “It somewhat clarifies her story. If she were there as the killer, she would have seen Shelby appear out of nowhere, wailing over Duke. I don’t think she was present when he died. We should find Shelby and talk to her again to see what she remembers seeing when she mourned the chef.”

  The detective finished his notes. “We, Miss Goodwin?”

  “Yes, we, Detective.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mason drove us to Zeke’s family home after lunch. I’d forgotten that the young deputy was one of the Wilkins boys. The rest of his family lived on a huge property right on the waterway. Zeke came from a long line of shrimpers, and his two older brothers Eli and Jake still ran the family business. His mother, Ms. Althea, lived in the big house, and as a favor to the Hawthornes, had opened it up to Duke’s team while they were in town for the wedding festivities.

  When we rang the doorbell, a familiar face answered, but not the one I was expecting. Blythe’s mouth popped open. “Oh.”

  My heart clenched. “How’re you doing?” I asked. Talking of walls, my best friend had erected a tall one between us.

  “Good.” Her short answer gave me no entry into a conversation.

  “You workin’ here now?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I’m helpin’ Ms. Althea out while she has guests.” Her shoulders released a fraction of an inch. “It feels good to be useful again, and I kind of like the work. Zeke called the house already, and you can find Shelby out on the patio. I’ve set you up with some glasses of sweet tea, but let me know if you need anything else.” She moved out of our way and beckoned us inside.

  Mason whispered to me as we walked to the back of the house, “That was a little chilly, wasn't it?”

  Caught between disappointment and anger at my friend’s response, I grunted in affirmation. We found Shelby pacing around a wrought iron table with a tray of drinks on it. Caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't hear us approach.