Cocoa Conviction (A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Rosie A. Point

  “We think one of you might be sleepwalking,” Lauren said. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. If Sherlock gets out every now and again, it’s not too bad. He’s a cute cat, and the rest of the inn is locked up at night, so it’s not like he can escape out of the front or back doors.”

  “Except he’s escaped during the day too,” I said.

  “Which throws your sleepwalking theory out of the window.” Gamma looked over Lauren’s shoulder at the recipe book.

  “And with a murderer on the loose…”

  “You’re not saying you think this was the murderer, are you?” Lauren asked. “Because that’s… that’s terrifying.”

  I shrugged.

  I didn’t want to freak her out or anything—the warning glance Gamma had given me had reinforced that—but there was something fishy going on in the kitten center. Could it be that Marietta had lied? Perhaps, she had made a copy of Gamma’s key and had let a friend in through the inn? Or was it one of the inn’s guests who might have gotten access to the kitten center?

  I went back to icing my cupcakes, the questions forming background noise.

  “So, what’s on the menu for this evening, Lauren?” Gamma asked.

  “Oh, I’m not sure. I wanted to make a farewell feast tonight. So many of our guests are checking out after… you know.”

  “Who’s checking out?” I spun around again, holding a half-frosted cupcake.

  “The Tellermans,” Lauren said, “the Prinz family. That was what Georgina said, yesterday, but I heard from Mrs. Bloom on the first-floor that the Malones were packing their bags too.”

  Gamma stiffened. “They haven’t checked out. They haven’t told me anything about leaving at all.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Bloom was wrong,” Lauren said. “I’d like to be prepared anyway. I’m thinking of making a medley of spring vegetables, tri-tip steak, creamy mushroom sauce, and roasted potatoes. And then cupcakes for dessert. Or do you think they’ve had enough of cupcakes. We have been feeding them a lot.”

  Trinity Malone wanted to leave.

  How could she? Surely, Detective Crowley wouldn’t have given her permission to do that? He was investigating a murder, for heaven’s sake. No one should’ve been allowed to leave unless he cleared them to do so.

  Had he cleared her?

  The urgency to speak to Trinity, to catch a glimpse of her hands—those rings that might indicate whether she’d been the one to murder Leanne—grew.

  “—quite a few things.”

  “Charlotte,” Gamma said.

  My gaze snapped to her.

  “Put the cupcake down.”

  I was still holding it out like I was offering it to the Queen. I put it back on my tray and brushed off my fingers on my apron. “I need to take a break,” I said. “Uh, just want to have something to eat?”

  Lauren frowned. “But we always eat in here.”

  “Charlotte,” Gamma said. “You can take a break later. I’ll take one with you.” Of course, my grandmother saw right through me. She knew I wanted to get out of the kitchen so I could go straight upstairs and talk to Trinity Malone.

  And from the sounds of it, she would join me in doing that. But only later on. Later on.

  My impulsive side itched to charge out of the kitchen now.

  “Right, sure,” I said, at last. “Of course.”

  “But if you want to get some sun,” Lauren said, and brought out her notepad and pen from one of the kitchen counter drawers. “You can go fetch some vegetables from the greenhouse for me.”

  “I can do that.” It would give me time to think. To calm down. I was so sure that it was Trinity who had murdered Bob and Leanne, the thought of her packing up and leaving the inn set my nerves on edge.

  Lauren tore off her sheet of paper and handed it over. “Make sure Brian gives you the biggest carrots he has. And that the tomatoes are ripe.”

  “I will.” I folded the note in half, slipped it into my apron pocket, then left the kitchen for the warmth of the sun.

  The greenhouse sparkled in the morning sunlight, and I silently prayed that Smulder wouldn’t be in there. I could find the carrots by myself. Yesterday had been strange and awkward and that wasn’t how I operated. I liked things to be clear-cut. Emotions muddied the water, and it was far easier to remain impartial when it came to men, at least.

  I tried to remain emotionless about the people around here too, but that had grown increasingly difficult. The more time I spent in Gossip, the more connected I became with the inn—to the soft breezes, the scents of fresh flowers, the sound of Lauren humming merrily while she whipped up delights. What would it be like to go back to the city? To my life on the move?

  The greenhouse door was closed, but the padlock that kept it shut lay on one of the bricks that flanked the dirt path leading it up to it. I opened the door and stepped inside.

  Smulder stood between the rows of veg, leaning his forearms on the handle of his shovel. In front of him, stood Nicole, the vet’s floozy. The scent of her perfume reached me, and I wrinkled my nose. It was the flower perfume! Could that mean she’d been in the inn last night? No, that was ridiculous.

  Plenty of people wore obnoxious rose-scented perfume. And she hadn’t worn it yesterday afternoon. Or was that smell coming from somewhere else?

  The questions helped distract me from the fact that Smulder was compromising our cover as a ‘couple’ by chatting to the gorgeous woman who had a crush on him.

  I cleared my throat.

  Smulder straightened, his expression suddenly blank. “Charlotte.”

  Nicole turned. “Oh, hello,” she simpered. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Uh-huh, yeah. I need these vegetables delivered to the kitchen, Brian.” I took the note out of my apron pocket and walked it over to him. “As soon as possible. Make sure you pull the biggest carrots you have. Lauren’s making a farewell dinner.” I tried not to clip off my sentences, but they came out short and rushed.

  “No problem,” Smulder said. “I’ll bring them over in five minutes.”

  “Good. Thanks.” I left the greenhouse. I’d have to talk to him about this later. If he wanted to date this Nicole woman, that was perfectly fine with me, he just had to say so—otherwise our cover would be compromised. All we had to do was stage a break-up. It wasn’t a big deal.

  The knot in my chest said otherwise, but what did it know?

  22

  Gamma and I excused ourselves from the kitchen while Lauren was in the prep stages for dinner. She wanted to start early in the day, so that she could have everything perfect by tonight.

  The lunch service was over. It was time for our break.

  I followed Gamma up the two flights of stairs to the second floor, forcing myself to think only of Trinity Malone and the questions we had for her, rather than the strangeness of Smulder and Nicole standing together in the greenhouse.

  It was only strange because Smulder always did the right thing. He never wanted me to get involved in murder investigations, and he certainly wouldn’t do anything to compromise our covers. So why was he talking to Nicole, knowing full well that it would do exactly that? Totally out of character for him.

  “Charlotte, are you all right?” Gamma asked, as we reached the second floor landing.

  “Fine.” I waved a hand.

  My grandmother caught it and squeezed it gently. We weren’t particularly affectionate, so the fact that she’d caught my hand and held it meant she was worried. I didn’t want her to waste energy on being concerned for me.

  “Brian’s talking to Nicole in the greenhouse,” I said.

  “Nicole?”

  “The vet’s assistant,” I replied. “Though, you probably didn’t realize she was there. You were pretty much obsessed with Dr. Spitz, yesterday.”

  “Tease all you want, Charlotte. I’m not the one who has a problem with romance. Dr. Spitz is as handsome as they come. He’s intelligent too. I’ve invited him over for sweet tea an
d cupcakes later on.”

  “You move fast.”

  “Better than at a glacial pace,” Gamma said.

  “I told you, I’m not interested in Brian in that way,” I breathed, just in case someone was listening. “I’m just surprised.”

  “So am I. That’s out of character for him.”

  “That was what I was thinking. He wouldn’t compromise us like that,” I said. “Unless he’s just gone soft after spending months here. I wouldn’t blame him if he had.”

  “I haven’t gone soft and I’ve been living here for years.”

  “This from the woman who’s having a tea date with a veterinarian,” I said.

  “You’re too cheeky for your own good.”

  “I learned for the best.”

  Gamma afforded me one of her brightest, happiest smiles. Just for a moment, the worries melted away because my grandmother was on my side, and she was a butt-kicking spy. A memory rose: me at five-years-old with a grazed knee, my grandmother sitting next to me on the front porch, helping me clean it and telling me a story of a man in Calcutta who she’d single-handedly brought down after he’d threatened an orphanage.

  How could she ever go soft?

  “Now,” Gamma said, and patted my cheek softly. “Are you all right? Do you need a moment?”

  “I need a cupcake and that’s about it.”

  “Then let’s see what Mrs. Malone has to say.”

  We knocked on the Malones’ suite door. Scuffling and a bump sounded within. The door opened and Trinity appeared. Behind her, Jerry was frantically piling clothing into bags. Chrissy sat in a chair, watching TV.

  The scent of that strong floral perfume drifted from the room and nearly overwhelmed me.

  What on earth? Did that mean it was Mrs. Malone who was Smulder’s secret admirer? I couldn’t worry about that now.

  “Are you leaving, Mrs. Malone?” Gamma asked.

  “That’s none of your business,” Trinity snapped.

  “That’s definitely my business as I happen to own this establishment and I would like to know when our guests check out, so that I can book new guests. It’s also my job to ensure you’ve had a pleasant stay,” Gamma continued. “You’re not due to leave for another week.”

  “Things change.” She gripped the edge of her door so hard that her fingertips went white.

  No rings. She’s not wearing any rings.

  I glanced past her again, but Jerry wasn’t the type to wear rings either.

  “Did you enjoy your time at the Gossip Inn?” I asked.

  “No, of course not. My child went missing, you have no control over that ridiculous kitten foster center, and a woman was murdered right next door!”

  “But you didn’t notice anything go missing?” I asked.

  The line of questioning might’ve taken my grandmother by surprise, but if it did, she didn’t show it.

  Trinity deflated slightly. “Huh?”

  “Sorry, it’s just that we had a report from one of the other guests that they’d noticed some of their jewelry had gone missing.”

  “Are you accusing me of being a thief?” Trinity puffed out her chest again. “Because I will—”

  “No, Mrs. Malone, you’re misunderstanding me, I’m afraid,” I said, quickly. “I was concerned that your rings might’ve been stolen. I noticed you’re not wearing them and if they were taken from you—”

  “My rings?” Trinity looked at her fingers. “Stolen? No. No, they’re not stolen, they’re just… uh, I packed them away a while ago. The weather’s been warm and they were making me itch.”

  I didn’t believe that for a second. Why would she lie?

  “Is that all you wanted to bother me about?” Trinity asked.

  “You’re entitled to a farewell package when you check out,” Gamma said, ignoring the jab. “Would you please furnish me with the date upon which you’ll be leaving?”

  Trinity grated her teeth against each other. Apparently, professionalism only made her angrier. “Tomorrow morning.” She retreated into her room and slapped the door shut in our faces.

  “She’s a delight,” I said.

  “I wish she would stay so we could become best friends.”

  “We could go strawberry picking together, the three of us.”

  Gamma’s lips twitched. “As long as we bring kittens. Lots and lots of kittens.”

  I started down the steps, Gamma right beside me. “Do you think she was telling the truth about the rings?”

  “Her body language said no, but that doesn’t necessarily mean what we think it means, Charlotte.”

  “Since when are you so cautious?” I asked. “You haven’t even asked me to go on a stake-out yet.”

  “All in good time,” Gamma said. “All in good time.”

  Trouble was, it felt like time had just about run out.

  23

  Dinner that night saw the guests at the inn seated at their tables by candlelight. Their appetizers, also prepared by Lauren on the fly, were cheesy garlic bread rolls and spicy chicken wings with ranch dressing.

  Unfortunately, we had to wait until after the guests had eaten to enjoy our dinners—the exact same as theirs. My mouth watered each time I set down a plate at a table. Except when I reached the Malone table.

  “You have to eat your food, Chrissy.” Jerry sat next to his daughter. “You can’t sulk just because we have to leave.”

  “I want a kitten!” Chrissy folded her arms. “I want Sherlock. I’m not going to go home. I’ll run away again.”

  “You can’t have a kitten, darling,” Trinity said. “Mommy’s deathly allergic.”

  “That’s not true. You never even coughed or sneezed or anything when Sherlock was sleeping in my room yesterday morning. You didn’t know he was there.” Chrissy pointed a stubby little finger at her mother. “You’re just mean. Mean, mean, mean!” She pushed up from the table and ran from the dining area.

  “Chrissy!” Jerry got up and ran after her.

  I cleared my throat.

  Trinity’s eagle-eyed gaze snapped to me, instantly. “Eavesdropping? I wouldn’t expect anything else from the likes of you.”

  I hadn’t done anything to this woman or her family. In fact, I’d helped her find her daughter for Pete’s sake. I removed the dishes from the table without gracing Trinity with an answer then walked back through the dining area and into the kitchen.

  The swinging doors swished shut. “That Trinity Malone lady is a piece of work,” I said. “Turns out, she might not be allergic to cats, after all.”

  “It takes all kinds,” Lauren said, from where she rushed back and forth, plating up the main course.

  “She’s not allergic?” Gamma asked.

  I told her what Chrissy had let slip at the table. It wasn’t exactly proof—Chrissy might’ve been lying about Sherlock being in her room—but that didn’t mean I had to like Trinity any more than I did now.

  “All right,” Lauren said, rubbing her hands together. “The next course is ready.”

  I finished clearing off the plates and stacking them neatly to be loaded into the dishwasher, then hurried over to the trays of prepared food. Delivering the main course wasn’t as interesting. Trinity Malone was missing from her table too. Had they already rushed off into their car and driven into the sunset, never to be seen again?

  I was tempted to call Detective Crowley and ask him if he’d authorized them to leave. I finished putting out the plates, offering smiles that were on the empty side, and headed back into the kitchen again. Gamma had already stacked the dishwasher, and Lauren had prepared two trays of cocoa cupcakes, complete with decadent chocolate buttercream frosting.

  It would be a night to remember for the guests. Everything at the Gossip Inn was perfect, but I couldn’t relax. A murderer on the loose. Smulder acting strangely. Escaping cats. Crowley being nice to me for a change.

  Had the world turned on its head?

  The evening wore on, and I fetched empty plates, cleaned them
, stacked them and loaded them into the dishwasher. Cupcakes were doled out, people ate and laughed and chattered, and the guests thanked Georgina for an amazing evening once they were finished.

  Finally, it was over, and Gamma, Lauren and I sat down at the rough-hewn wooden table in the kitchen, our plates in front of us. An empty place setting awaited Smulder, who didn’t usually eat in the kitchen, but who Gamma had bullied into doing so tonight.

  “He’s late.” Gamma glanced at the clock above the door.

  Cocoa Puff, who’d been chased off by the commotion in the dining room, peeked his furry head around the doorjamb. He meowed at us.

  “Not you, sweetheart,” Gamma said. “Brian. He’s supposed to be eating with us.”

  “Are you sure he said yes?”

  Gamma pursed her lips. “Of course, I’m sure. He was meant to—”

  Brian entered the kitchen through the back door, and Lauren gave a little squeak of surprise. “It’s starting to rain out there.” He wasn’t in his overalls for once. He’d chosen a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a jacket for tonight.

  “That’s good,” Gamma said. “Rain is always welcome. Now, please, take a seat, Brian. We’re about to have our staff dinner.”

  “I can’t.” Brian tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

  “Why not, may I ask?”

  “Sorry, Georgina. I came out here to tell you. I should’ve come earlier, but I didn’t know then that I would have to skip the meal.” Brian paused. “Something came up.”

  “What thing?” I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t technically my place to know, but then, we still had the whole ‘couple cover’ to uphold in front of Lauren. Girlfriends asked where their partners were going, all the time. Out of concern for their safety. Or jealousy. Mainly just concern for their safety.

  “I have a meeting tonight,” he said. “With a friend.”

  “Which friend?” Gamma’s eyes had grown narrow. She wasn’t the type of boss who ‘bossed’ people around, but she was as curious as I was. Likely, she thought Smulder’s behavior was odd too.

  “Look, it’s… I’m going out with Nicole. The vet’s assistant. I’ve got to go, I’m going to be late.”