Irish Creme Killer: Book 1 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series

by Summer Prescott

  The main lodge was an enormous structure which housed guest rooms, a salon and spa, a theater, an impressive library, a massive indoor swimming pool, and state-of-the-art gym facilities, as well as a grand dining hall and gilded ballroom. There were social activities scheduled daily, and Missy and Echo were excited to discover that there was a nightly trivia competition in the main lounge.

  “Thank you so much, Kel. This is going to be fun,” Missy exclaimed, impulsively throwing her arms around the artist’s neck and hugging him tightly.

  “There’s no one more deserving of a peaceful retreat, dear lady,” he replied, hugging her back. “It’s my pleasure.”

  While the vacationers were touring the stately lodge with their host, the housekeepers had unpacked and stowed their luggage, placing items neatly in closets and drawers. The group decided to freshen up and meet at the dining hall for dinner a couple of hours later, excited that their week of relaxation had officially begun.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Echo was thrilled that the Pinnacle employed a full-time vegan chef for guests with those dietary preferences, and sat back in her chair, stuffed, after the best restaurant meal that she’d ever experienced.

  “Oh my goodness… it’s a good thing that they have a gym and personal trainers here. With food like this, I could easily go home twenty pounds heavier,” she chuckled.

  “Me too,” Missy smiled and nodded. “We’ll have to start our spa day tomorrow with a nice workout.”

  “We’ll probably be on the road to my family’s estate by then,” Chas interjected. “It’ll take us about an hour to get there, and I want to show Kel and Spencer around the house and take some of the cars out for a spin, so we’ll meet up with you two for dinner. I asked our chef to prepare dinner for nine, because I’ve invited my brother and sister to join us. I hope no one minds.”

  “Oh darling, you know I always want you to be with your family when you can. I think it’s wonderful. You boys just be careful when you’re driving those cars,” Missy admonished.

  Spencer grinned. “I’ll try to keep them in line for you, Mrs. B,” he promised, flashing dimples that caught the attention of several young socialites in the dining hall.

  “Thank you, Spencer, I’m glad there’ll be a responsible adult with these two,” she teased, glancing playfully at Chas and Kel. Kel raised his wine glass in reply and Chas merely grinned at his relaxed and beautiful wife.

  **

  Kel turned to look at Chas as the limousine pulled up in front of iron gates set in a towering brick wall that was grander, by far, than anything at the Pinnacle. Since the estate museum was open to the public, the gates stood open, the security guard in his well-appointed shack giving them a jaunty wave as they pulled on through.

  “I’d heard of the Beckett estate when my family used to come up here for summers, but we were never in a position to rub elbows with people of your station,” the artist mused, taking in the manicured gardens and imposing structure that awaited at the end of a beautifully meandering drive. The Beckett house made the Pinnacle look like a gardener’s shack.

  “You grew up here?” Kel asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Until the moment I could leave, yes,” Chas nodded, his thoughts far away.

  “Estranged?”

  The detective came back to the present, shaking his head. “No, not at all. My father was an amazing man, who encouraged me to be whatever I wanted to be, even though he would have preferred to have me overseeing the operations of his various enterprises. My brother and sister could never understand why I wanted to be my own man­—why I wanted to try to make my own way in the world, but my mother…” he paused a moment, swallowing hard and staring out the window at his childhood home.

  “She was the only one who always understood. She respected and supported my decision.”

  Spencer nodded imperceptibly, also seeming lost in thought.

  “It’ll be interesting to meet your family,” Kel said, watching his friend for a reaction.

  “Interesting? Definitely,” Chas sighed. “Shall we?” he asked, as the limo glided to a stop in front of enormous stone steps that led into the mansion. The chauffeur opened the door and they piled out, waiting for Chas to lead the way.

  The detective tucked a one-hundred-dollar bill into the donation box at the entrance, and made his way through the marbled foyer to an office just beyond. Inside the mahogany-lined room, polishing his spectacles, sat an ancient man wearing a tuxedo that was a duplicate to the one that he’d worn when Chas’s tiny footsteps pitter-pattered through these stately halls. When the men appeared in the doorway, he hastily put the thick glasses on and his face registered immediate delight.

  “Master Charles!” he exclaimed, with just a hint of a British accent, practically leaping from his chair to embrace the detective.

  “It’s good to see you, Chalmers,” Chas replied, warmly returning the man’s effusive greeting.

  “It’s been such a long time, but I assure you that I have taken diligent care of your home in your absence, sir,” the faithful servant, who had been with the family for longer than Chas had been alive, asserted.

  “I have no doubt, Chalmers. You’ve always done a fine job of looking out for my family,” was the gracious reply.

  Chas introduced Kel and Spencer, the first shaking the servant’s hand, the second, locking eyes with him in a manner that would’ve been surprising to anyone who had noticed the interaction.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bengal,” the servant greeted the Marine veteran.

  “Likewise,” Spencer nodded, appearing already to be familiar with the elderly man in front of him.

  Chalmers had been the manservant for Chas’s dad since before the detective was born, and had been tasked with overseeing the day-to-day operation of the estate, even after it became a museum.

  “Perhaps Maggie could give the gentlemen a tour through the home while we discuss a few things?” Chalmers asked.

  “Of course,” Chas nodded. Chalmers pushed a button on his phone and the Irish maid who had taken care of Missy when she first visited with Chas, appeared as though by magic.

  “Master Charles, it’s so good to see ya,” she bowed her head, the Irish brogue thick, delight at seeing Chas brightening her plain, ruddy features.

  “You too, Maggie,” the detective gave her an affectionate smile.

  “Come on then, lads, let’s take a walkabout,” she beamed at Kel and Spencer.

  “Do lead on, dear lady,” Kel grinned at the maid, ever the gallant gentleman.

  He and Spencer went on a tour of the lavish estate while Chas talked family business with Chalmers, and the three men regrouped at the fifty-stall antique and classic car garage, which housed an extensive collection, willed to Chas by his father. There were gleamingly perfect sedans, convertibles, roadsters, and more. Some of the vehicles were so rare that they were one of only a handful of their kind in the world. Kel and Spencer wandered along with Chas, listening to the history of some of their favorites among all of the fine machinery.

  “Well, this is a bit of a dream come true,” Kel whistled appreciatively. “This building alone would’ve made it hard to oust me from this lovely estate.”

  “It’s a different world,” Chas remarked. “One in which I’m not entirely comfortable. The only regret that I have about leaving when I did is that I didn’t get to see my dad as often as I would’ve liked in his latter years.”

  “I think the once-a-month commute from Louisiana was pretty devoted,” Spencer said quietly, his gaze running over the lines of the Rolls Royce Silver Shadow that he stood next to.

  Chas gazed at him quizzically. He hadn’t met Spencer until he moved to Florida, and hadn’t told the Marine about his father, so he wondered how the young man knew so much. Figuring that Missy must have said something, he shrugged off his surprise.

  “I wish it could’ve been more, but there’s no sense in dwelling in the past,” the detective recovered, moving to run a hand
over the gleaming fender of a champagne-colored roadster.

  “So, are you gents ready to hit the road in one of these babies?” he gave them a lopsided grin.

  “Sure, which one are we taking?” Kel asked, eyeing the collection.

  “Well, I’m taking this little beauty,” Chas replied, leaning against the roadster. “You two choose your own.”

  “Seriously?” Spencer’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “I thought you were just going to take us along for the ride.”

  “That was my impression as well,” Kel’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.

  “What fun would that be?” the detective chuckled. “Pick one that you want to drive, and we’ll head back to the Pinnacle. They’re having a road race for charity this weekend, and we can show off some of the collection.”

  “The Kellerman Classic?” Kel exclaimed, surprised. “We used to love watching it every summer, but I never dreamed I’d actually participate.”

  “What’s the Kellerman Classic?” Spencer asked.

  “Well, it’s called the Pinnacle Classic now,” Chas replied. “It’s a chance for classic car owners from around the country to come showcase their favorites. Guests at the resort and people from surrounding communities come to watch. All of the proceeds go to charity­—it’s a yearly event,” he explained.

  “This little gal,” the detective lightly patted the fender of the car that he was leaning against. “Is one of only three of this model and color left in the world.”

  “That sounds expensive,” Spencer commented, eyeing the Rolls next to him.

  “Dear boy, that car is worth more than the net worth of most people staying at the Pinnacle,” Kel said, gazing appreciatively at the sleek vehicle.

  “Wow. It looks like something I saw in a James Bond movie once.”

  “The car in the Bond movie was mocked-up to look like this one,” Chas grinned. “But this girl doesn’t swim, fly, or shoot; she just purrs.”

  “I don’t know if I feel comfortable driving a car that costs more than I’ll ever make in my lifetime,” Spencer admitted with a shrug.

  “Then choose one that’s not as rare,” Chas suggested. “Kel, what’s your pick?”

  “The red speedster, of course,” the artist’s eyes lit up as he headed toward the cherry bomb.

  “Keys are in the glove box, and the button on the arm rest will raise the bay door,” the detective instructed, climbing into his spymobile. “Spencer, just get in one and drive it,” he encouraged. “Kel and I will lead the way.” He opened his bay and revved the supercharged engine, guiding the vehicle out to the drive in front of the garage.

  Spencer watched Chas head down a back drive that ultimately looped around to the front of the mansion, with Kel following closely behind. The bays had sensors that automatically closed the doors after the cars cleared the doorway. Realizing that he’d be left behind if he didn’t choose a car and follow his boss, he jumped into the Silver Shadow, grabbed the keys out of the glove box, started the engine, guided the grand car gracefully out of its stall, and fell in behind the two sports cars.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Spencer caught up easily to Kel, who was a safe distance behind Chas as they headed down the private drive toward the exit. Once the guard waved them through the gates, the pace changed dramatically, as Chas accelerated rapidly, letting the horses under the little car’s hood do their job, with Kel right on his tail and Spencer cruising sedately some distance behind. The winding roads of the Catskills provided a fantastic course upon which to test the speed and handling of the exotic cars, and Chas took full advantage of the opportunity to see what the car could do, passing the few cars that he encountered like they were standing still and accelerating into the twists and turns like he was being chased by a rabid pack of demons. Kel, who apparently had a competitive streak in his artistic soul that no one had imagined, stayed closer to Chas’s bumper than was probably prudent.

  The mountain roads were a blast, and the weather was beautiful for a drive. Kel had pulled back the top on his convertible, and Chas and Spencer had all of their windows down, delighting in the spring breeze. The champagne roadster came screaming around a turn at breakneck speed, and Kel saw an opportunity to pull ahead. Putting the pedal of the cherry bomb to the floor, he zoomed into the oncoming lane to go around Chas. The detective saw him beginning to pass in his rearview mirror, and hit the gas himself, intending to defeat the artist’s intentions of getting ahead. He grinned from ear to ear as his champagne beauty shot forward.

  Kel accelerated again, determined to pass his friend, and the two cars made a nearly hairpin turn, almost side by side. Kel inched forward, confident that he was finally going to be able to take the lead, when a semi came around the corner barreling right toward him. Chas, concentrating on holding his position, didn’t see the semi immediately, and continued to accelerate, leaving Kel stuck in the oncoming lane.

  When the detective glanced up again, he saw the semi and applied the brakes, as did Kel, leaving the two cars still side by side, with the artist directly in the path of the oncoming semi, who was now honking his horn frantically. Guided by instinct rather than thought, Chas hit the gas pedal hard, shooting ahead of Kel, who braked more firmly and swerved in behind the champagne car at the last second, missing Chas’s bumper by mere inches, as the irate trucker thundered past.

  Spencer had been behind the two of them the entire time, and expelled his breath in a relieved rush when Kel fell back into place behind Chas. Their fearless leader continued the rest of the way at a much more sedate speed, and the artist elected not to challenge him again. Spencer heaved a sigh of relief, as he’d been nearly certain that he was going to be picking up the pieces of two friends and a couple of very expensive cars.

  **

  Missy and Echo reclined in heated massage chairs, dressed in fluffy white robes. The friends had mud on their faces, cucumbers on their eyes, and their hands were wrapped in bags of paraffin.

  “Oh my goodness, it’s been so long since we’ve been able to just get away from it all and relax,” Echo sighed happily. “It was so amazing of Maggie to offer to run the candle shop for me while we’re gone.”

  “Well, since we didn’t have any guests scheduled for the Inn this week, our awesome innkeeper was more than willing to keep busy with the candle shop. She loves the scents,” Missy replied.

  Echo had begun making candles scented like Missy’s cupcake flavors, to sell in Cupcakes in Paradise; the handcrafted candles had become so popular with both tourists and locals that demand had exploded. She’d been able to quickly save enough money to open up a shop of her own in a quaint little building downtown.

  “It’s nice that Spencer is getting a vacation too,” the candle maker commented drowsily.

  “I agree. He works so hard at the Inn and shop, he deserves a break. I can’t help but think that he’s probably acting as a bit of a babysitter for Chas and Kel today, though,” she chuckled. If only she knew…

  A slim, young, and, aristocratic, auburn-haired woman, who had just entered and was sitting in a massage chair next to Missy, looked up in surprise.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” she said, gazing at Missy wide-eyed. “But… you said Chas. Are you talking about Chas Beckett?”

  Missy and Echo were startled at the realization that someone had overheard their conversation, and both sat up, removing the cucumbers from their eyes.

  “Chas is my husband,” Missy smiled, curious. “Do you know him?” she asked, thinking that the young woman looked vaguely familiar.

  “Oh… well, we knew each other when I was little,” the redhead faltered a bit. “We played tennis at the same club.”

  “Oh, how nice,” Missy replied, wondering at the younger woman’s nervous demeanor. “What’s your name?”

  “Muffy. Muffy Fairchild,” she gave Missy a tight smile.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Muffy. I’m Missy, and this is my friend Echo.”r />
  “Pleasure,” Muffy smiled faintly, looking uncomfortable.

  Fortunately, the women were saved from any further attempts at awkward conversation by the arrival of the spa attendants who came in to finish Missy and Echo’s facials.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “You look amazing,” Chas kissed his coiffed, pedicured, and pampered wife soundly when he, Spencer, and Kel met up with Missy and Echo after their gender-traditional afternoons.

  “Well, thank you. I don’t want your brother and sister to think that you’ve married a ragamuffin,” she smiled up at him.

  “You know how much I care about what my brother and sister think,” the detective made a face.

  “Honey, you’re lucky to have a brother and sister,” she reminded her husband wistfully. Her only sister had died several years earlier. “Enjoy them, despite their… idiosyncrasies.”

  Chas sighed, but gazed fondly at his tender-hearted mate. “I’ll try,” he nodded, thinking about how very different he was from his siblings.

  His brother Reginald had been more than content to play the part of international playboy, spending his trust fund as though it was limitless; and his sister Olivia had married well, but seemed miserable. Chas had faithfully visited his ailing father, traveling at least once a month from his home in LaChance, Louisiana, to the opulent nursing facility in upstate New York where the elder Beckett lived; but the other two had rarely bothered to even make an appearance, despite living less than an hour away.

  “When we were at the spa today, we met someone who knew you.”

  “That’s not terribly surprising,” Chas remarked with a smile. “Quite a few families that were around when I used to come here with my family are still making an appearance. Especially during the Pinnacle Classic. I’ve run into several guys that I went to college with who are here to show off their cars.”