also by Vickie McKeehan
The Evil Secrets Trilogy
JUST EVIL Book One
DEEPER EVIL Book Two
ENDING EVIL Book Three
The Pelican Pointe Series
PROMISE COVE
HIDDEN MOON BAY
DANCING TIDES
LIGHTHOUSE REEF
STARLIGHT DUNES
LAST CHANCE HARBOR
SEA GLASS COTTAGE
LAVENDER BEACH
SANDCASTLES UNDER THE CHRISTMAS MOON
BENEATH WINTER SAND
The Skye Cree Novels
THE BONES OF OTHERS
THE BONES WILL TELL
THE BOX OF BONES
HIS GARDEN OF BONES
TRUTH IN THE BONES
The Indigo Brothers Trilogy
INDIGO FIRE
INDIGO HEAT
INDIGO JUSTICE
THE INDIGO BROTHERS TRILOGY BOXED SET
Coyote Wells Mysteries
MYSTIC FALLS
SHADOW CANYON
SPIRIT LAKE
Exclusively at Amazon in print and Kindle format
Mystic Falls
A Coyote Wells Mystery
Published by Castletown Publishing
Copyright © 2017 Vickie McKeehan
All rights reserved.
Mystic Falls
A Coyote Wells Mystery
Copyright © 2017 Vickie McKeehan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without written permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, locales, 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, businesses or companies, is entirely coincidental.
Castletown Publishing
ISBN-10: 1979441294
ISBN-13: 978-1979441292
Published by
Castletown Publishing
Printed in the USA
Titles Available at Amazon
Cover art by Vanessa Mendozzi
You can visit the author at:
www.vickiemckeehan.com
www.facebook.com/VickieMcKeehan
http://vickiemckeehan.wordpress.com/
www.twitter.com/VickieMcKeehan
The distinction between the past, present and the future
is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.
~ Albert Einstein
Table of Contents
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Cast of Characters
MYSTIC FALLS
by
VICKIE McKEEHAN
Castletown Publishing
Copyright © 2017 Vickie McKeehan
1
Coyote Wells was a beach town, not much different from any other along the eight-hundred-mile California coastline. Located far north on a skinny stretch of peninsula jutting out into the Pacific Ocean, it attracted its share of tourists, adventurers, outdoorsmen, fishermen, or anyone who got the urge to put a boat in the water.
It had been that way for centuries, since the Indians first spotted Spanish explorers making their way onto shore. War would come later, after the visitors made known their true intentions.
But before all that, the Indians had guided these foreigners through the vast mountain ranges to the east, showed off the redwood forests to the south, led them over the rugged landscapes that opened up to green fertile valleys, and taken them to the tops of vistas to ooh and aah over panoramic views of the ocean. They offered up thick, lush timberland that would eventually be used to help build the American West. They welcomed these newcomers to explore the canyons and lakes and waterfalls and all the land had to offer.
Maybe that’s why peace was short-lived. With such a bounty at stake, the Natives soon had to defend their homeland from the invaders who wanted to take it all away. Battles were fought by men and women who dug in to save their villages, their families, their way of life from an onslaught of decimation.
The Native peoples along this coastal paradise struggled for survival. For thousands of years the indigenous tribes had called this cape home. Now war became a way of life and the struggles they came with it. For the six or seven tribes who had thrived along its shores, their everyday existence was threatened by those early Spanish explorers, the settlers who would come after, and eventually the federal government.
Poverty hit them hard and ultimately many thousands succumbed to starvation. The deaths of so many were sung around the fires in villages, large and small, a testament to how legends were born, how tall tales emerged, how folklore sprang to life. Singing about spirit walkers and ghosts, the shaman honored their heroes, proving their loved ones weren’t really gone, would never be gone. Their spirit would linger over the land they loved, among the peaks and valleys, and walk along the shoreline just as their ancestors were meant to do. The wind would bring whispers that endured the test of time, marking these monumental struggles down in the history books for all to read.
The various tribes didn’t get to keep their homeland. The government eventually got its way and bureaucrats swept those who were left off the peninsula and onto the reservation, land no one wanted, where the tribes were forced to settle and unite as one people. Despite their struggles and losses, they would have to unite in order to survive. The tribes would have to find a way to work together and get along. At first, the relationship was rocky. Infighting became an everyday occurrence, mainly because alcoholism on the reservation ran rampant.
But no one could take away their grit and resolve. Mothers still held their children close. Fathers still provided for their families as best as they could. Entire villages banded together to try to overcome the hardships. For more than a century, they’d been pushed around to deal with their poor living conditions until something strange began to take shape during the early part of the 1920s when this same stretch of peninsula began to feel the effects of the Great Depression. One town along the coast had been abandoned altogether. A few stucco buildings and wooden shacks were all that remained. The main street was nothing more than a muddy track when the rains came.
Where others saw a ghost town, a handful of tribal members from the reservation saw potential. Fed up with their surroundings, this small band of brothers rebelled at the way things had been. They set their sights on the ghost town. Packing up their few belongings, they headed back toward the coast where their ancestors had first thrived.
Those first few nights, they camped in town expecting trouble. But after leaving the reservation no one seemed to take notice they’d gone. Without the resistance they’d feared, more defiant souls began to leave a few months later. Others soon followed.
With hard work, their tiny town began to grow and flourish. They put up new buildings. They built new houses. They opened a general store with supplies from San Francisco. They named their new home, Coyote Wells, after their young leader, Sun Raven Coyote, a man who was brave enough to defy the system.
Every year during the summer
months at the peak of tourist season, the town still gathered in a powwow ceremony known as the Sun Bringer Festival to honor those first citizens. Those determined, headstrong individuals who decided that the status quo was something that needed changing. Those enduring souls never gave up. After struggling for so many years, their patience and prevailing spirit finally won out, leaving a sense of purpose behind for those who would come after.
It made Gemma Channing wonder why she’d ever moved away in the first place. Being back in town made her feel guilty for ever leaving behind the only grandmother she’d ever known. There’d been reasons of course, tons of them thrown together by her mother when she’d been too young to fight back against the strong influence of a parent. While others had developed a backbone as they headed toward adulthood, Gemma had opted to let someone else make her decisions for her---an embarrassing mistake she’d lived with for years.
Since she couldn’t go back and correct her missteps, she had to fall back on the notion that those days were over. Gemma was done doing whatever her mother, Genevieve Wentworth, wanted her to do.
Glancing around the Coyote Chocolate Company, Gemma’s heart swelled with pride. She liked to think that she’d picked up right where her beloved grandmother had left off. Marissa Sarrazin’s chocolate shop was an institution here. Today, Gemma had filled the glass display cases with an assortment of delicacies she’d made by hand from the recipe cards she’d found in her grandmother’s desk at home.
Although she wasn’t nearly the chocolatier her Gram had been, she felt she’d improve with practice. She just needed the opportunity to show people she could make candy as good as her grandmother had made.
Marissa’s chocolate creations had always been enough to get customers through the door. If for some reason that didn’t do the trick, there were any number of her original Spanish beverages that lured people in as well. She made sure these hot and cold concoctions brought out the different flavors of the cacao bean, depending on the spice or exotic ingredient she added. Marissa was a wizard when it came to experimenting with her recipes, testing the chemistry of what worked and what didn’t. If there had been a Nobel Prize for chocolate, Marissa Sarrazin would surely have won every time.
But since her grandmother’s death weeks ago, Gemma had to admit customers had mostly stayed away. She had to hope they’d eventually come back, otherwise she’d have to consider what to do next. But for now, the smell of cacao drifted in the air and apparently had attracted at least one curious soul.
“I bet your mother thinks you’re crazy for coming back here,” Leia Bonner pointed out, sitting atop a stool at the shiny, stainless steel counter.
Gemma stared at her one-time gal pal from high school and fired back, “I’ve been in town for weeks, why is it you’re just now bothering to stop in and talk to me? What took you so long to drop in and say hello?”
“Mostly loyalty to my brother. You remember him, don’t you? The guy you were married to back in the old days.”
Gemma’s lips curved. “A decade ago qualifies as ancient history. Lots of water under the bridge since then. We were way too young to ever get married and make it work. It’s a wonder we lasted a year. That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t even bother making an appearance at Gram’s funeral.”
“I waited for you to invite me. Lando waited. No call ever came.”
Gemma looked dumbfounded. “Let me get this straight. You and Lando needed an invitation to say goodbye to a woman you’ve known your entire life? That’s so…lame.”
“Maybe, but you could’ve called just to talk, just to let us know you were sticking around this time,” Leia countered.
“Lydia and Luke were there. I thought you’d be there, too.”
“My mother knew your grandmother well over four decades. Nothing was going to keep her away.”
“And that means what? Oh, forget it,” Gemma said, growing tired of the argument. “Did you come in here to buy anything or just remind me that my mother and I aren’t on speaking terms these days?”
“Is it really that bad between you guys?” Leia asked, truly concerned. “I mean she can’t be happy you’re standing in Marissa’s shop.”
“Our relationship’s always been strained. It’s because Genevieve refuses to accept the fact that I moved back here to take over Gram’s business. She thinks I should still be back in San Francisco at my stepfather’s law firm. She expected me to dump this store on the first buyer who made an offer. Can you imagine me turning my back on the business Gram treasured for over forty years?”
Leia looked surprised. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her to go jump in the Bay.”
Leia smiled and scanned the display case, perusing the decadent chocolate offerings. There were all sorts of candies, odd creations like dark chocolate paired with chili pepper or cayenne, and more traditional sweet varieties topped with caramel, coconut, or hazelnut. She glanced up to stare at Gemma. “Your Gram did leave the store to you and not to her own daughter. That has to miff Genevieve quite a bit.”
“I’m sure it does. But instead of supporting my decision to keep the shop and move here, Mother got mad when that first buyer made an offer and I refused. I’ll give you three guesses who that turned out to be.”
“Marshall Montalvo has been snapping up real estate in town for years.”
“You got it. After refusing his offer, I started packing up my things, but my mother acted like I’d committed a betrayal of the highest order. She railed at me about my decision right up until the day of the funeral.”
“Maybe that’s because Genevieve is the eccentric artist with a…how shall I put this? A healthy ego. She’s never been one to see the big picture unless...”
“More like an overbearing diva where the picture is solely about her. Everyone gets it. Let’s face facts, she’s mad because she thinks she should get to direct my life and tell me what to do. Still. After all these years. Nope. Not happening anymore.”
“Good for you. You finally decided to stand up for yourself. Glad to hear it. So, what if it’s about ten years too late.”
“Don’t start with me,” Gemma warned.
Leia held up her hands. “Okay, okay. But she didn’t want you to leave the high-powered law firm and you did. That’s a start. Now you’re back home where you belong. Are you all settled in?”
“Not quite. There are still a few things belonging to Gram I need to figure out whether to keep or donate. I’m not there yet. How’d you find out my mother and I were on the outs anyway? Have you talked to her recently? Did she call you?”
“Not me. But she did call my mom the other day to see if she could get you to phone home.”
“That sounds like her. Using a roundabout sneaky way to contact me instead of a direct approach.” Gemma glared at Leia. “So that’s why you came around now? To do my mother’s bidding?”
“No one’s doing your mother’s bidding. I’m here because I owe you a visit. My mom told Genevieve she refused to get between you two. Interfering isn’t something Lydia does. You know that.”
Gemma’s honey brown eyes softened just thinking about Lydia Bonner. She’d always preferred Leia’s mother to her own. So before they got into another heated discussion, Gemma changed the subject. “I should try to get you to buy something, practice my marketing skills. I’m lousy at this selling thing.”
“You’ll get better at it. Give me your best pitch. I looked up your new website. It’s catchy. That should help with sales.”
“It better because customers aren’t exactly lining up at the door. I could use a couple hundred online orders a month. Want me to wrap up a box of your favorite? If I remember correctly that’d be the spicy Aztec dark chocolate filled with the gooey almond glaze filling.”
Leia let out a loud satisfied sigh. “Sweet and spicy. No doubt about it, your Gram had a knack for making that stuff taste out of this world. Now that I think about it I’ve been coming in here eating her chocolate creat
ions since before I could walk.”
“I know. But I’m struggling to get the final product as consistent as hers. Sometimes the taste is there, sometimes it isn’t, sometimes the texture’s way off. Tell me what you think. Be brutally honest. Don’t hold back.” Gemma arranged a dozen pieces in her grandmother’s trademark red box trimmed in gold accents and handed it off to Leia. She waited for a reaction.
Leia dug into the carton of treats, nibbling her way around a tasty morsel. The look on her face said she was savoring every heavenly nuance of flavor. “This must be a home-run batch because this is almost as good as sex. And I should be able to gauge since I’m in a slump.”
“Oh really?” Gemma said, fascinated. “Do elaborate. How long’s your slump lasted?”
“Too long. If only I had something to elaborate on…that’s why it’s called a dry spell. And you?”
“Dry spell is an understatement. Mine goes all the way back to San Francisco, now add three years to that.”
Leia’s mouth dropped open. “And I thought Coyote Wells offered slim pickings here. Don’t they have sex down in the Bay Area?”
“I’m sure they do, but I met nothing but duds while I was there. Not to mention I was working seventy plus hours a week. Hard to have a social life when you’re deep in billable hours.”
“We’re pathetic.”
“Don’t remind me. I was so happy to move back here. Maybe that’s why it was such a letdown for me when you didn’t even come to the funeral.” While Gemma busied herself behind the counter, rearranging the candy display, she casually slipped in a question about Lando. “How is my ex these days? Do you really think he would’ve showed up at Gram’s service if I’d asked?”
“He wanted an invitation,” Leia said, grinning. “Took you long enough to bring him up. Lando is still Lando. Stubborn. Pig-headed. You weren’t around six years ago when he became the chief of police, the youngest one in our history. Talk about overbearing though. That’s one brother who thinks he can still tell me how to run my life. Who knew Luke would turn out to be the laid-back one?”
Mystic Falls Page 1
