by Tonya Kappes
This book is dedicated to my Kappes Krew! Y’all keep me going to keep writing and writing. I hope you enjoy visiting Blossom Bay Short Stories between the release of full length novels.
About the Author
For years, USA Today bestselling author Tonya Kappes has been self-publishing her numerous mystery and romance titles with unprecedented success. She is famous not only for her hilarious plotlines and quirky characters, but her tremendous marketing efforts that have earned her thousands of followers and a devoted street team of fans. Be sure to check out Tonya’s website for upcoming events and news and to sign up for her newsletter! Tonyakappes.com
Also by Tonya Kappes
Olivia Davis Paranormal Mystery Series
SPLITSVILLE.COM
COLOR ME LOVE (novella)
COLOR ME A CRIME
Magical Cures Mystery Series
A CHARMING CRIME
A CHARMING CURE
A CHARMING POTION (novella)
A CHARMING WISH
A CHARMING SPELL
A CHARMING MAGIC
A CHARMING SECRET
A CHARMING CHRISTMAS (novella)
A CHARMING FATALITY
A CHARMING DEATH
A CHARMING GHOST
Grandberry Falls Series
THE LADYBUG JINX
HAPPY NEW LIFE
A SUPERSTITIOUS CHRISTMAS (novella)
NEVER TELL YOUR DREAMS
A Laurel London Mystery Series
CHECKERED CRIME
CHECKERED PAST
CHECKERED THIEF
A Divorced Diva Beading Mystery Series
A BREAD OF DOUBT SHORT STORY
STRUNG OUT TO DIE
CRIMPED TO DEATH
Bluegrass Romance Series
GROOMING MR. RIGHT
TAMING MR. RIGHT
Women’s Fiction
CARPE BREAD ’EM
Young Adult
TAG YOU'RE IT
A Ghostly Southern Mystery Series
A GHOSTLY UNDERTAKING
A GHOSTLY GRAVE
A GHOSTLY DEMISE
A GHOSTLY MURDER
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Tonya Kappes. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Author Tonya Kappes, P.O. Box 176988, Ft. Mitchell, Ky. 41017
Welcome to Blossom Bay, a cozy east coast town with a colorful set of characters that you will fall in love with. The Blossom Bay Short Series is a series of short stories based on the characters of Blossom Bay. Some of the short stories will be mystery, some will be romance, while others will be women's fiction. One thing is for sure, each short story with have the fun and charm of the Tonya Kappes novels you are used to reading.
MURDER BY THE BAY
(Blossom Bay Short Story #1 )
Cough, cough.
Years of dust fluttered through the stale air of the old abandoned Victorian bed and breakfast and filled Julia France’s lungs after she jerked the red velvet drapes open to let the morning sunlight come through the floor to ceiling windows.
“That’s the picturesque scene you had in your head?” Priscilla Daily grunted from behind Julia, setting Julia’s nerves on edge. This wasn’t Priscilla’s first go around with opening a bed and breakfast. And about right now there was regret in her gut that she’d let Julia France, of all people in the world, talk her into quitting her sous chef day job at Chef LeBlanc to come work for her.
“Seriously?” Priscilla couldn’t help but look around at the dingy walls, worn carpet, and sheet covered furniture. She pushed back her frizzy dishwater blonde hair. Sweat beaded along her hairline. She brushed the sleeve of her shirt across her forehead and looked out over the bay. Uneasy and unsure of what she’d done, she rubbed her hands down her thick hips wondering if she was going to make enough money to keep them curvy.
It was the first day Julia had gotten the keys to her dream, a dream that had been two years in the making, no thanks to the short sale that’d tied up the property. Thank God she was a very patient woman.
“Maybe not the exact picture in my head.” Julia’s head tilted from side-to-side trying to see the view from all angles, only the inch-thick dust had collected on the inside of the home and at least three inches of salt water film on the outside of the window obscured her view. “But maybe with a lot of window cleaner,” a loud gasp escaped Julia’s lips.
Thoughts flooded her mind in fear and if she didn’t work fast, she wasn’t going to be ready at the door with the Victorian antique tray she had found at an estate sale. Another image she had engrained in her head. The polka dot party dress with the crinoline lining under the skirt would be perfect against her pale white skin and coal black hair. She had even found a pair of size six patent leather high heels with a small bow on the toe of the shoe. It was perfect.
Julia pictured herself standing in the doorway of the bed and breakfast, in the exact dress and the perfect shoes, her hair parted to the side and the edges flipped up. It played out like a movie. She’d smile, welcome the Blossom Bay Inn’s—a name that came to her in a dream—first overnight guests (again, she pictured the perfect honeymooners), her new-to-her tray would be filled with bite-sized cakes and tortes Priscilla would whip up and flutes of champagne.
It was perfect. Julia France’s dream come true. She’d only wished she’d had been able to open last month like she was supposed to or she wouldn’t have taken the reservation. There was no sense in crying over spilt milk, she thought and decided to look at the situation with a glass half full attitude.
She pulled the sheet off of the piece of furniture closest to the window, uncovering a gorgeous and expensive looking chaise lounge where she was sure someone had rested to enjoy the view of Blossom Bay, the Inn’s best attraction.
She smacked the palm of her hand on the fabric and disappeared in the plume of dust. Waving her hand in the air, she tried to break out of the dust bunnies.
“And you thought it would take us a few hours?” Priscilla’s hands were filled with stacks of pots she had found at a local yard sale that would help her get started on her future.
“Nothing a little dusting can’t fix,” Julia called over her shoulder as Priscilla left the room.
She wasn’t about to let Priscilla ruin her dream, especially on the first day. She walked around the room plucking all the sheets off the furniture. Each piece revealed better and better. “We only have one couple coming today.” Julia was good under pressure and she was feeling it now. She bit the edge of her bottom lip. “We can quickly clean the main rooms, their bedroom and leave the rest for later.”
It was a perfect plan. Julia was very pleased with herself. She walked back over and carefully sat down on the seven-foot wide mahogany chaise lounge, admiring the gold leaf feet and details etched into the wood. The gold, brown, and cream striped material was accented with thin scarlet strips making the velvet curtains, on the window behind it, the perf
ect accessory.
Julia knew she had a lot of work ahead of her. She knew it when the place went on the bidding block and no one wanted it. But she also had a very vivid dream as a child of the exact same house. It was tattooed in her mind.
“You still believe in fate?” Priscilla grunted from the hallway.
“More than ever,” Julia happily sighed. She ran her hand down the chaise and let the excitement of the day begin to grow inside of her.
Julia France believed in fate and all things karma. A couple of years ago she was driving through Blossom Bay for the first time to join friends for a weekend getaway, she had stopped at the Warf, right in the cove, to get a look at ocean. It was the most beautiful ocean landscape she had ever seen on the East coast. When she turned to get back in her car, it was as if her dream had come to life.
The Blossom Bay Inn sat on top of the hills, overlooking the bay. It winked at her in the twinkling sunshine. It was the very house she’d dreamed about so many years ago. A dream she’d held on to all her life. A dream come true.
There wasn’t much time until Julia’s first guest was due to arrive, the Hendersons. She was tickled with excitement to meet them. As soon as the Blossom Bay Inn website was up and running—the first expense Julia invested in after the loan had come through from her parents—the Hendersons had booked a room. Granted, the Inn was supposed to be open for the day they were to arrive, unfortunately some of the inspections weren’t able to go as scheduled. Julia simply believed the Universe had a different plan for the Inn and she went with it.
Julia kept hitting the refresh button on her laptop, sure her eyes were deceiving her. It was the first time fear had set in because she was making her dream a reality and the reality was that the success was all on her. And she was going to pay her parents back one way or another. . .her life depended on it.
“You worry about the rest of the house while I tackle the kitchen,” Priscilla groaned, placed the white chef cap on her head and walked down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. She still questioned how she let Julia talk her into this gig.
Chef LeBlanc was swanky and she was next in line to become chef. Only problem, the current chef was younger than her and was very happy at Chef LeBlanc and probably not leaving anytime soon. Chef LeBlanc was on the pier and had a spectacular sunset, making it the most popular restaurant in Blossom Bay.
Her lip turned up and she growled thinking about the first time she’d met Julia. Priscilla was on bar duty and Julia was sitting at the bar going on and on about this dream she had as a kid. Julia had planted herself on that bar stool and stayed there until well after closing time, selling Priscilla on this dream, capturing Priscilla like a fish in a net. After all, Priscilla was a Pisces, a dreamer and being in charge of her own kitchen was her dream come true.
“I can’t get all of this done by myself.” Julia’s voice was only a buzz in Priscilla’s ears and brought her out of deep thought.
“Have you seen the kitchen?” Priscilla asked. She turned right back around and found Julia laid out on the chaise.
Priscilla knew that if the rest of the house was dusty and dirty with bed sheets all over it, the kitchen was bound to be worse for the wear.
“No, but. . .”
Priscilla put her hand up to stop Julia from talking. Julia complied with Priscilla’s gesture and bit her tongue because she knew where her bread was buttered—on the delicious cooking that would make the inn that much more appealing. Plus she had coaxed a big time food critic to come to the Inn’s grand opening and she needed Priscilla more than Priscilla knew.
“We can do this.” Julia relied on positive thoughts to get through this. It was only a little cleaning. She knew it wasn’t going to be all a dream—she was well aware the short sale of the property could take months and as part of the agreement she was unable to see the property; which she was fine with once the structural engineer and all the necessary inspections came back with flying colors. But she never thought the pictures that were sent to her wouldn’t look like the inside of the inn.
She put that in the back of her mind. There had to be cleaning supplies around the inn somewhere. Maybe old and outdated, but why would the previous owners who had abandoned the inn taken such goofy things like cleaning supplies when they left the antiques that had value. So a little cleaning was a-okay. At least Julia was happy to see the furniture from the photos was there, just not as lively as the pictures made it look. Nothing a little elbow grease couldn’t take care of.
Priscilla was all too happy to be in the kitchen. It was dusty, but the updated appliances and commercial grade style kitchen was perfect to get her started. The day’s menu would be simple, light, and easy since she was only cooking for one couple.
The antique tray Julia had left her would soon be filled with a small plate of slices of her mouth-watering chocolate chip banana bread with chocolate sauce lightly drizzled on top, a recipe that was handed down to her by her grandmother. She could hear her grandmother now “just a drizzle because it makes the palette sing”. It was refreshing and would go well with the champagne Julia had insisted on using.
She picked up the champagne and took a nice long look at it wondering if she should let it chill in the icebox while trying to decide what her palette would like.
A blood curdling scream came out of the guts of the inn, making Priscilla jump and loosen her grip on the champagne bottle, sending it down on the tile flooring and smashing it to smithereens.
“Yep. It’s a dead body alright.” The deputy sheriff stood in the broom closet looking at the corpse hanging on the hook next to a moldy mop. “I’m going to have to shut you down and secure the crime scene until we can gather all the evidence.” He didn’t bother looking at Julia while giving her a list of what he was going to do.
“But you can’t do that,” Julia protested. As much as she tried, she just couldn’t take her eyes off of the dead guy. She’d never seen a dead person in real life and she wasn’t planning on it stopping her now. “I have my first guests coming tonight and more tomorrow. Plus my grand opening is happening this weekend.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. . .” He hadn’t even asked her for any information.
“France, Julia France, owner and operator of the Blossom Bay Inn.” She stuck her hand out, unsure if it was the right thing to do.
“Good luck, but it’s not happening right now.” He shrugged and didn’t bother giving her any more time as he grabbed his cell phone to answer the incoming call. “Definitely dead and I’m not sure how long. There is a,” he paused and looked down at the notes he had scribbled on his little notepad, “Julia France here saying she is the owner. Hell, I didn’t know Barb and Joe had sold the place.” He stood in silence as Julia eavesdropped.
Barb and Joe, Julia noted. The property was in foreclosure when Julia had bought it so the old owners’ names weren’t anywhere listed. In fact, this was one of Julia’s parents’ biggest gripe. They wanted to talk to the owners so they could get the down-low on what type of finances were needed to run the Inn and how much overhead was going to be.
“Fate?” Julia’s father scoffed. “Fate doesn’t pay the bills. Fate doesn’t keep the lights on.”
Julia hated when her father threw up her belief in fate when he believed in the facts. A battle they’d had since she was a child. But she was lucky he loved her and supported her.
If she could just find Barb and Joe, she’d questioned them, but they were nowhere to be found. Her parents agreed to front her for the initial startup costs which were inspectors’ fees, Priscilla’s salary and getting the electric turned on, she’d used her savings for the small details like the tray, dress, and Priscilla’s ingredient list. She’d readily pay them back as soon as the Inn was making money.
The homicide detective was at the Inn in no time and taking his time going over the body. The local sheriff left and let the detective and his people do their thing. Julia watched him from afar in silence as he poked around the hanging bo
dy and used his pencil tip to push things aside, like the corpse’s jacket.
“Fred Segal, roof inspector.” The detective turned around. It was the first time he actually took the time to look at Julia. Her heart jumped. “Did you have a schedule for the inspectors? It will help us determine the time of death.”
“No.” Julia shook her head, well aware he was watching her, just like she’d seen in the shows CSI or Blue Bloods. “It was a short sale and the overall inspector said it didn’t need a new roof and he believed the previous owners had the old roof replaced before they abandoned the Inn. I didn’t even know the owners until the other officer said Barb and Joe.”
The detective didn’t say anything else. He remained tight-lipped and went back to the body.
Dead body or not, Julia was determined to welcome the Hendersons with open arms and a tray full of Priscilla’s chocolate chip banana bread, minus the champagne since Priscilla dropped it and Julia had used what little money she had left over to purchase it.
Julia picked up the vacuum she had dragged out of the closet before she had spotted Mr. Segal hanging from the hook. She clicked the power button because there was nothing else she could do to help the investigation. While detecting was their number one priority, hers was cleaning.
The motor on the vacuum let out a little sputter before revving up to full speed, something Julia chalked up to sitting in the closet without being used. She uncoiled the nozzle and ran the sucking part down the curtains, trying to get off as much surface dust as she could. Her plan was to run it along all the furniture for a quick dusting and then go over it with more of a fine-tooth comb.
“What do you think you are doing?” The detective ripped the cord right out of the socket.
“I have to get the surface dust off the furniture before the Hendersons arrive.
Tonight when they are sleeping, Julia had planned to go over everything again, but with a little deeper cleaning. She even coughed up enough extra cash to pay Priscilla to stay and help.
