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Masked to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Book 5)

Page 1

by Christina Freeburn




  Praise for the Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Series

  Books in the Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Series

  Sign up for Henery Press updates

  Copyright

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  About the Author

  Books in the Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Series

  Sign up for Henery Press updates

  THE SEMESTER OF OUR DISCONTENT

  FINDING SKY

  NUN TOO SOON

  Praise for the Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Series

  FRAMED TO DEATH (#4)

  “A snappy, clever mystery that hooked me on page one and didn’t let go until the perfectly crafted and very satisfying end. Faith Hunter is a delightful amateur sleuth and the quirky characters that inhabit the town of Eden are the perfect complement to her overly inquisitive ways. A terrific read!”

  – Jenn McKinlay,

  New York Times Bestselling Author of Copy Cap Murder

  “Christina’s characters shine, her knowledge of scrapbooking is spot on, and she weaves a mystery that simply cries out to be read in one delicious sitting!”

  – Pam Hanson,

  Author of Faith, Fireworks, and Fir

  EMBELLISHED TO DEATH (#3)

  “A fast-paced crafting cozy that will keep you turning pages as you try to figure out which one of the attendees is an identity thief and which one is a murderer.”

  — Lois Winston,

  Author of the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery Series

  “A little town, a little romance, a little intrigue and a little murder. Join heroine Faith and find out exactly who is doing the embellishing—the kind that doesn’t involve scrapbooking.”

  – Leann Sweeney,

  Author of the Bestselling Cats in Trouble Mysteries

  DESIGNED TO DEATH (#2)

  “Battling scrapbook divas, secrets, jealousy, murder, and lots of glitter make Designed to Death a charming and heartfelt mystery.”

  –Ellen Byerrum,

  Author of the Crime of Fashion Mysteries

  “Freeburn’s second installment in her scrapbooking mystery series is full of small-town intrigue, twists and turns, and plenty of heart.”

  – Mollie Cox Bryan,

  Agatha Award Finalist, Scrapbook of Secrets

  CROPPED TO DEATH (#1)

  “A great read that had me reading non-stop from the moment I turned the first page…kept me in suspense with plenty of twists and turns and every time I thought I had it figured out, the author changed the direction in which the story was headed...and I liked the cast of characters in this charming whodunit!”

  –Dru’s Book Musings

  “Witty, entertaining and fun with a side of murder…When murder hits Eden, WV, Faith Hunter will stop at nothing to clear the name of her employee who has been accused of murder. Will she find the killer before it is too late? Read this sensational read to find out!”

  – Shelley’s Book Case

  “A cozy mystery that exceeds expectations…Freeburn has crafted a mystery that does not feel clichéd or cookie-cutter…it’s her sense of humor that shows up in the book, helping the story flow, making the characters real and keeping the reader interested.”

  — Scrapbooking is Heart Work

  Books in the Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Series

  by Christina Freeburn

  CROPPED TO DEATH (#1)

  DESIGNED TO DEATH (#2)

  EMBELLISHED TO DEATH (#3)

  FRAMED TO DEATH (#4)

  MASKED TO DEATH (#5)

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  Copyright

  MASKED TO DEATH

  A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery

  Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection

  First Edition | January 2017

  Henery Press

  www.henerypress.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2016 by Christina Freeburn

  Author photograph by Kristi Downey

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Trade Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-137-8

  Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-138-5

  Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-139-2

  Hardcover Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-140-8

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my “big sister” Pam.

  You are one of the bright lights and soft places in my life. I adore and love you to the moon and back, and infinity and beyond. I didn’t always have a big sister in my life and am so grateful you came along later, even though I was in my thirties when I finally had a big sister of my own. I will forever be grateful to Terry for asking, “Have you meet Pam?” I don’t think he realized he was creating a family with that question…or maybe he did.

  Thank you for being my big sister. Love you.

  xoxoxoxoxo

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Another book is finished and ready to go out into the world, and I know I couldn’t have accomplished this without the help of some wonderful and talented people. I owe a ton of thanks to my wonderful editors Erin and Rachel who helped to make sure my characters didn’t randomly move places, change names, and that I was accurately getting across my point to my beloved readers.

  Much love to my cover designer who makes such lovely and beautiful “faces” for my stories.

  Teresa…girl, you know I couldn’t have written this book without you. Thanks for keeping me sane and reeling me in when I needed to focus and keep the story grounded, and encouraging me to get crazy when I needed to stretch the plot. I can always count on you to be my better half—or worse—depending on my need at the moment.

  And last, and never least, a huge thanks to my husband who was willing to agree that of course we needed to go on another cruise to experience a different line as a Disney Cruise isn’t like other cruises. Thanks for putting up with me and all the fictional people that come along with me. I love you.

  ONE

  Shoving the keycard into the slot on the cabin room door, I hoisted the straps of my carry-on and camera bag onto my shoulder. For seven days, this room would be my home away from home. Away from
my grandmothers. My friends. My community. Sadness bubbled up in me. Stop it. I was a grown-up. There was no need to feel homesick. I was going on a cruise. Sun. Sand. Relaxation. I had traveled away from home before, so why was I feeling out of sorts this time?

  Ted. Or more precisely his family. I adored his brother, Bob, who I sleuthed with over a year ago, and loved hanging out with Bob’s betrothed, Garrison, but I hadn’t met his mother, nor had Ted formally introduced me to his ex-wife or daughter, Claire. I had seen the pair around town a few times a month when Elizabeth dropped Claire off for visitation. Ted and I hadn’t been dating long, so we agreed it was best to wait as we were still navigating our relationship. This trip was a huge step in our romance, even with him rooming with his mom and daughter.

  I slipped into the stateroom and pressed the door closed. Sweat coated my hand. This cruise practically counted as our first date. The last ninety days had both of us helping put Scrap This, and Eden, West Virginia, back together after a member of our community decided arson was a profitable business—basically making Ted and I have a long-distance relationship even though we lived ten minutes apart. So far, our romance was less exciting than our friendship. Now, we had seven promising days where we could explore our new relationship without having to worry about interference from my grandmothers, his job, or my ability to find a wayward soul to help.

  My heart pitter-pattered at the thought of being able to have a face-to-face conversation with Ted and a real first kiss. Quick pecks didn’t count. It was hard to even hold hands when we couldn’t be in the same area for more than ten seconds. I had thought our flight from Baltimore to Orlando would be perfect for quality time, but Ted had slept from the minute the tires lifted to the moment the pilot brought them down.

  The curtains covering the veranda were drawn back, giving me a glimpse of my window to the world for the next week. Right now, all I saw was the cruise ship next to us, a huge one that dwarfed our ship, the Serenade. After we left Port Canaveral, I knew I’d be treated to sights I’d once only dreamed of. I’d have coffee out on the small balcony and watch the sunrise, a glass of wine in the evening to watch the sunset. A fantastic week lay before me.

  I dropped my carry-on onto the queen bed. There was enough space under the bed for me to tuck my suitcases underneath. End tables bracketed the bed. The sleeping area took up half the cabin space. Not a problem, since I wasn’t planning on spending much time in the room. My schedule was pretty filled with wedding events. The remainder of my free time I was using to take advantage of the amenities on the ship, not hole up in my room.

  This was a special trip. In a few hours, Bob and Garrison would say “I do” as the ship sailed away from Port Canaveral and sailed to the Eastern Caribbean. Odessa, Ted and Bob’s mom, had arranged the wedding on the liner she worked on, and I was here to join in their joyous event and indulge in my own romance.

  I sat on the bed and drew out my brand new travel journal, running my hand across the smooth leather. The first page was a list of the events I’d been invited to attend: wedding, family dinner, portrait session tomorrow during formal night, the Mardi Gras ball the following evening. Odessa Roget hadn’t just arranged for one night to celebrate Bob and Garrison’s nuptials but a whole week. Of course, it helped when she convinced the grooms the Mardi Gras cruise was the perfect one for holding a wedding.

  There was a light rap on my door. I cracked it open.

  A good-looking man in dress whites held a bedazzled black garment bag and a small hat box. The extra weight in his midsection stretched his coat to its maximum ability. “Odessa Roget asked me to deliver your wedding attire. The rest of your luggage is here as well.” He made a small sound, a cross between a snort and a cough as he focused on the coworker next to him. “Make it quick. I have a fitting to conduct.”

  I held the door open and stepped aside. The steward wheeled in my large bag, the other hand holding up my own lackluster fabric garment bag. For one person, I sure brought a lot of luggage. I’d never been on a cruise before and had watched An Affair to Remember as research. The women and men were dressed impeccably. I wanted to look like a world-class traveler, not like a—well, not like I had lived in a small town all my life. I packed enough dressy clothes so I wouldn’t be wearing the same outfit every night for dinner. A whole new wardrobe. My stomach did its little flip flop again. I wasn’t sure if I was more excited about Ted seeing me in the sexy dresses or just wearing the new-to-me fabulous clothes.

  “Where would you like your luggage?” the steward asked.

  “On the bed,” I said.

  “Goodness, can’t you see I’m waiting?” The other man had entered the room and tapped his foot on the carpet. “Odessa is expecting this wedding attendant to be perfection. I must start her fitting now.”

  I wasn’t sure if the strain in the man’s voice was at having to turn me into perfection or pleasing Odessa. I had heard mutterings from Ted and Bob about their mother turning the wedding into a Broadway show, including having the ship’s costume designer make the outfits the women would wear to the ceremony. I wasn’t too happy about not choosing my own outfit, but I kept quiet. One, I didn’t want my first interaction with Odessa to be a fight over a dress I’d wear for two events. Two, I had enough trouble finding dresses for the formal and semi-formal dinners scheduled on the cruise.

  The steward placed my quilted garment bag onto the bed.

  I dug around in my carry-on and pulled out some dollar bills. “Thanks for your help.”

  He discreetly pocketed the tip and scurried out of the room, fixing an evil eye on the other man’s back.

  “Let’s get this started.” The other man whirled me around and yanked my jacket off.

  I swatted at his hands. “What are you doing?”

  “Did you hear me? Odessa sent your dress. Dress patterns are never a good match for a woman’s body. One size does not fit all.”

  “I can dress myself.”

  “I can’t let anything happen to my creation.”

  “What can happen between here and the bathroom?” I pointed to the room that was six feet away from us.

  Delicately, he placed the bag on the bed and unzipped it. He scooped the dress up and placed it in my arms as if the garment was a newborn. It was made from a gauzy off-white fabric with a sheer fabric underneath. Tiny rhinestones on the hem and straps of the dress made it sparkle. “Don’t. Ruin. The. Dress.”

  I stepped into the bathroom and flipped on the light. The door slammed closed behind me. A hand slapped over my mouth and I was pressed into the corner between the wall and sink. The dress squished tightly against my body. My heart pounded, draining all thoughts from my head.

  “Quiet,” a voice whispered in my ear.

  Help. I needed help. The scream I tried letting loose was muffled by my attacker’s hand. Doing my best to keep the dress protected—I wasn’t sure whose wrath I feared most: the designer, Odessa, or whoever was holding me captive—I rescued myself. I flung my body to the side, throwing the attacker against the sink. There was something to be said for small bathrooms. I ground the tip of my heel into his foot, then brought my foot up to kick him, letting out another muffled scream.

  “Stop,” the man said. “He can’t know I’m in here.”

  He can’t know? What about the fact a man shouldn’t be in my bathroom?

  “You sound like an elephant charging through the jungle, not a lady getting ready. You better not be ruining the dress,” the designer said.

  Now I wanted to kick another man.

  “Odessa found a male version of herself,” my captor whispered.

  I broke free and spun around, finding myself looking into a familiar pair of green eyes. I blinked. Once. Twice. The third time was a charm and the image clicked. The man before me was Ted in about thirty years. His hair was a faded red, worry lines around his mouth and eyes. Why was John Roget hiding in my bathroom?

  His face relaxed and he drew closer. “We don’t have much time. P
ay attention.”

  No wonder Ted was so bossy; it was in his mother and father’s genes. The poor guy hadn’t stood a chance. Did I want to know what John had to say? Of course I did. It wasn’t every day you found your boyfriend’s father skulking in the bathroom of your stateroom.

  John pulled out a grainy photograph of an attractive man. “I have reason to believe this man, William Hastings, is involved in a diamond scam.”

  “And that made you hide in my bathroom?”

  The look he centered on me was a cross between annoyance and thinking I was an idiot. I asked a reasonable question. It wasn’t my fault his explanation was lacking critical details.

  “I’ve heard about your helpful nature when it comes to Ted’s cases, and I thought you might be interested in doing the same for me.”

  Was Ted’s dad serious? He was hired for a job and waited to pick a partner for the mission once he was onboard? The man had been an FBI agent, he should plan better. Then again, maybe that was the reason he had been an agent and wasn’t now, and not from reaching retirement age. “You should’ve worked it out before today. I’m not getting involved.”

  “Hastings’s sister, Ronnie, is Garrison’s best friend. She has a delicate nature. If she’s wrapped up in this or Garrison sees me, he’ll explode. If he does, I won’t have a chance of making amends with Bob. And I might lose Ted.”

 

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