Look Into My Ice (Garden Girls Christian Cozy Mystery Series Book 12)

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by Hope Callaghan




  Look Into My Ice

  Garden Girls

  Cozy Mystery Series Book 12

  Hope Callaghan

  http://hopecallaghan.com

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Although places mentioned may be real, the characters, names and incidents, and all other details are products of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ______________________________

  Visit my website for new releases and special offers: hopecallaghan.com

  Thank you, Peggy Hyndman, Jean Pilch and Cindi Graham for taking the time to preview Look Into My Ice, for the extra sets of eyes and for catching all my mistakes.

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  Meet the Author

  Hope Callaghan is an author who loves to write Christian books, especially Christian Mystery and Cozy Mystery books. She has written more than 30 mystery books (and counting) in four series.

  Born and raised in a small town in West Michigan, she now lives in Florida with her husband.

  She is the proud mother of one daughter and a stepdaughter and stepson. When she's not doing the thing she loves best - writing books - she enjoys cooking, traveling and reading books.

  Click Here For A Complete List Of Books By Hope Callaghan

  Hope loves to connect with her readers! Connect with her today!

  Visit hopecallaghan.com for special offers, free books, and soon-to-be-released books!

  Email: [email protected]

  Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/hopecallaghanauthor/

  Table of Contents

  Free Cozy Mysteries Newsletter

  Garden Girls Box Set Savings

  Meet the Author

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Get Free Books and More!

  “Stick to your ribs” Goulash

  Foreword

  Dear Reader,

  I would like to personally thank you for purchasing this book and also to let you know that a portion of all my book sales go to support missions which proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ.

  My prayer is that you will be blessed by reading my stories and knowing that you are helping to spread the Gospel of the Lord.

  With more than thirty mystery books (and counting) in four series published, I hope you will have as much fun reading them as I have writing them!

  May God Bless You!

  Sincerely,

  Author Hope Callaghan

  Chapter 1

  Gloria Rutherford-Kennedy glared at the pink cast on her left leg and then frowned at the ringing phone. “Stupid cast!”

  Gloria had broken her leg a few weeks earlier while on her honeymoon. She had fallen into a gopher tortoise hole while chasing a peeping tom on her sister, Liz’s, camper lot.

  The cast was making her cranky and cramping her style. She was counting the days until the cast would come off and it wasn’t going to be one moment too soon!

  Gloria hobbled to the house phone. “Hello?”

  “Gloria?” Gloria had to press the phone close to her ear to hear the soft voice on the other end of the line.

  The female voice was familiar but for the life of her, Gloria couldn’t place it, at least not right off the bat.

  “This is Eleanor Whittaker. I was wondering if you had a moment to stop by my place this morning.”

  Gloria could count on one hand the number of times Eleanor had called to ask something of Gloria. Whatever she wanted must be important, or perhaps Eleanor was ill. “Is everything alright, Eleanor?”

  “Yes. I-I’m fine, but I have something that may be of interest to you, and wondered if you might have time to stop by. This morning.”

  Gloria glanced out the window. It was mid-February. West Michigan was smack-dab in the middle of a “January thaw.” The thick layer of snow that had blanketed the ground and area roads had melted, making everything a soupy mess.

  The warmer weather wasn’t going to last long. Forecasters were predicting a doozy of a storm that was barreling across the plains and headed right toward Michigan.

  Gloria wasn’t complaining about the warmer weather. She was happy she wouldn’t have to maneuver along the snow-covered sidewalks and driveways while attempting to balance on her one good foot.

  “You want me to come by now?” It wasn’t that Gloria had anything pressing to take care of, but she hadn’t planned to leave the farm.

  “Yes. As soon as you are able.”

  Paul, Gloria’s husband, had taken on a side job working as security for a presidential hopeful who was in town campaigning. He had left before sunrise and said he would be back in time for dinner.

  Gloria had spent the morning puttering around the house, combing through her closets in an attempt to find warm weather outfits to pack for the upcoming cruise with her friends, the Garden Girls.

  Since returning from her honeymoon, the days had been filled with not only catching up with her friends, but also visiting the shut-ins in the area, delivering baked goods and keeping them company. Eleanor was one of them.

  Paul and she had also been trying to sort through some of their things to try to clear the clutter, all the while dealing with the dreaded cast.

  Eleanor lowered her voice, as if someone might be listening in. “Something is going on down at the lake!” The lake being, Lake Terrace. Eleanor’s home was perched on a hill overlooking the lake.

  Gloria was all ears now. “Has someone fallen through the ice?”

  Despite the “January thaw,” the lake was still frozen solid and a good number of shanties dotted the lake. In fact, the ice was so thick; some of the men drove their snowmobiles and even their pick-up trucks onto the lake and parked right next to their shanties.

  “Well…” Eleanor’s voice trailed off. “You’ll have to come see for yourself.”

  Eleanor loved to have the Garden Girls stop by for Sunday visits. She was always eager to find out if there were any new investigations under way and had tried to help the girls on several occasions with tidbits of information.

  So far, all of Eleanor’s leads had been dead ends. There was only one way to find out if this one would be the same. “I’m on my way.”

  Gloria disconnected the line, limped to the door, slipped into her winter jacket, and then dropped her purse over her neck before grabbing her keys off the hook near the door.

  Mally, Gloria’s
beloved springer spaniel, met her at the door.

  “I’m going to Eleanor’s place. You want to go see Eleanor?” Eleanor loved Mally and always had treats waiting when they arrived for a visit.

  Mally thumped her tail against the door and let out a low whine.

  Gloria opened the door and waited for Mally to trot out onto the porch before closing the door behind them.

  She hobbled to the garage, opened the side service door and then the rear door of her car, a 1989 Mercury Grand Marquis she had nicknamed Annabelle many moons ago.

  While Gloria scooched behind the wheel, grumbling about her troublesome cast the entire time, Mally settled into the backseat.

  It was only a couple miles from Gloria’s farm to the small town of Belhaven. When she reached the main drag, she turned right at the stop sign and headed toward Lake Terrace and Eleanor’s home on the hill.

  Eleanor had given up driving a couple years back after a harrowing incident. She had gotten confused, accidentally accelerated instead of hitting the brakes and had plowed her caddy into the corner of the Quik Stop, Belhaven’s grocery store.

  It had scared the dickens out of Sally Keane, who had been working behind the cash register. Sally managed to scramble across the checkout counter to safety, narrowly escaping significant bodily harm.

  Sally had cleared the counter, barely grazed by the caddy’s bumper but to hear her re-enactment, Eleanor had nearly killed her and had even hinted that poor Eleanor had spotted Sally and decided to take her out by hitting the gas instead of the brake.

  Gloria turned into the circular drive and stopped in front of the porch steps. She held the door for Mally, who vaulted out of the back seat and darted up the steps, waiting for Gloria near the front door.

  She was halfway across the drive when the door swung open.

  Eleanor stood in the doorway wringing her hands, an anxious expression painted on her face. “Thank you for coming so fast, Gloria. I just know something is going on down by the lake.”

  Gloria and Mally followed Eleanor and her walker across the living room, through the dining room, past the kitchen and into the family room that overlooked the lake.

  They stopped in front of the sliding glass doors.

  Eleanor handed Gloria a pair of binoculars. “Here, take a look. There, on the right.”

  Gloria pressed the binoculars to her eyes and scanned the horizon. Several snowmobiles and a group of people circled one of the fish shanties sitting out on the ice and not far from the shoreline. “That’s odd.”

  Many of the area residents were retirees. The regulars who fished almost daily met out on the lake early in the morning and then headed over to Dot’s Restaurant for breakfast so they could brag about their catches.

  Gloria shifted on her crutches, adjusted the dial on the binoculars and zoomed in on the shanty. She wasn’t keen on fishing, and especially ice fishing, but Paul loved to go out on his days off and had taken his own shanty onto the ice.

  The men marked their shanties with their last name, although it wasn’t necessary since no one ever messed with someone else’s shanty.

  She squinted her eyes to read the name on the side.

  “Mueller.” She lowered the binoculars. The shanty belonged to Ed Mueller. The Mueller family owned a summer cottage on the lake and the cottage was not far from where the shanty was located. Ed worked for Kent County as a meter reader and lived in Grand Rapids with his wife, Sheryl, a middle school math teacher.

  Ed and his wife rarely visited the cottage during the winter months and it had been years since he’d gone ice fishing.

  “I wonder why Ed’s shanty is on the lake.”

  Eleanor’s blue eyes gleamed. “I heard Ed’s sister, Fay, died last month down in Indiana and Ed was thinking about selling the cottage.”

  Gloria set the binoculars on the end table. “I’m gonna go down and check it out.”

  Eleanor patted Mally’s head. “Do you mind if I go with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  On the way to the front door, Eleanor plucked a doggie treat from the container she kept in the kitchen panty and held it out for Mally, who clamped it in her jaw and trotted to the door.

  It took several moments for Gloria to make the trek down the steps as she held onto the handrail with one hand and her crutches with the other.

  Eleanor was just as cautious as she slowly made her way down the steps and to the passenger side of the car.

  Gloria waited for Mally to climb in the back before placing the crutches on the back seat and hobbling to the driver’s side door.

  Eleanor placed her walker in the back seat and then slid into the front seat. After she had buckled her seatbelt, Gloria drove out of the driveway and headed down the hill toward the lake.

  She pulled Annabelle into Ed Mueller’s empty driveway and the women, along with Mally, made their way across the drive, the mushy yard and onto the lake.

  Eleanor had an easier time navigating the ice as she clung to her walker and slowly inched forward.

  The rubber tips of Gloria’s crutches were akin to ice skates and she quickly regretted her decision to step out onto the smooth, treacherous ice.

  Someone reached out from behind her and grabbed her elbow, steadying her. “What in the world are you doing out here?”

  Gloria shot a quick glance to the side. It was Gloria’s young friend, Andrea Malone. “Thank heavens. Can you help me get to the shanty?”

  “Against my better judgment,” Andrea quipped as she continued to hold Gloria’s arm and they moved forward at a snail’s pace.

  Eleanor was already near the shanty and had joined the growing group of spectators.

  Whoop…Whoop.

  The sound of a police siren sounded behind her and Gloria glanced back. They would need to pick up the pace if they were going to be able to see what was going on before the police arrived on the scene and made everyone leave the vicinity.

  Finally, they reached the outer fringes of the people who had gathered.

  “What’s going on?” Gloria asked of no one in particular.

  Glen Shenk, one of the locals who liked to ice fish on the lake, turned to Gloria. “It’s Ed Mueller. Looks like he’s partially frozen inside the ice!”

  Chapter 2

  Gloria, accompanied by Andrea, muscled her way through the crowd with a little help from one of her crutches.

  They reached the inner circle and Gloria gazed inside the open door. All she could see was Ed’s head. Someone had covered his body with a flannel blanket.

  “You don’t want to look underneath,” a man standing next to Gloria remarked.

  Glen Shenk followed them to the doorway. “Ed’s wife, Sheryl, called down to Dot’s Restaurant early this morning, looking for Ed.”

  Glen continued. “We…” he pointed to Carl Arnett, another one of the Belhaven locals, “offered to run by the cottage to take a look. When we got here, we saw his shanty out on the lake. Guess we never noticed it earlier. Course it was dark and our shanties are on the other side of the lake.”

  Carl Arnett interrupted. “We knew right then something was wrong. Ed hasn’t put his shanty out on the lake for years. We knocked on the cottage door, but no one answered so we came out here and found him.”

  Carl pointed inside. “We covered him up, trying not to touch anything but it ain’t pretty.”

  Gloria’s stomach grew queasy as she gazed at the cold, gray face of Ed Mueller. Had poor Ed, depressed over his sister’s recent passing, decided to kill himself? What a tragic way to end one’s life. She shifted her gaze to Andrea. “Do you have your cell phone on you?”

  Andrea nodded and plucked it from her pocket.

  “Take a couple quick pictures,” she said in a low voice.

  Andrea glanced over her shoulder. Officer Joe Nelson was bearing down on the cluster of gawkers.

  “Hurry,” Gloria urged.

  Andrea turned the phone on, pointed it at the inside of the shanty and tapped the
screen.

  “Okay folks. Back up.” Officer Joe Nelson approached the group of onlookers and began waving his hands.

  Andrea slipped the camera into her jacket pocket.

  Gloria took a step back and gazed around. Farther out on the water there were several shanties lined up in a row, while still others were set up in semi-circles.

  Ed Mueller’s shanty was off by itself and close to shore. There were tracks leading from the shanty to the shoreline and into the yard.

  Ed would have had to use his pick-up truck to push the shanty onto the lake. Where was his truck?

  Officer Derek Jones, another of Montbay County Sheriff’s officers, tapped Gloria on the shoulder. “You’re gonna have to leave, Gloria.”

  “I…” Gloria started to answer.

  Officer Jones, who had also worked with Gloria’s husband, Paul, raised both hands. “You know I would let you hang around if I could, but if I let you then the rest would think I’m showing preferential treatment.”

  Gloria took one last longing glance inside the shanty and, with Andrea’s help, slowly made her way to the shoreline.

  Eleanor and Mally were already on shore and stood off to the side while they waited for Andrea and Gloria to catch up.

  Eleanor fell in step with Gloria as they made their way across the Mueller’s yard toward the car. “I saw a light inside the cottage last night,” Eleanor said.

  Gloria came to an abrupt halt near the cottage’s side door. She glanced at the officers, who stood guard in front of the shanty door. They had told her to leave the ice. There was no mention of the cottage.

  Andrea recognized the look in Gloria’s eyes. “I don’t think…”

  It was too late. Gloria adjusted her crutches and hopped to Mueller’s cabin door. She lifted the end of her crutch and pressed on the door with the rubber tip. The door creaked open.

  Gloria, followed closely by Eleanor, stepped inside the cottage.

  A reluctant Andrea, along with Mally, brought up the rear.

 

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