“So how long do you need?”
Charles took a deep breath and locked his fingers behind his combed-back hair. His wrist watch shimmered in the light. “Two weeks. A month. Tops.”
Miss May shook her head. “That doesn’t work for me, Charles. Now, I understand your job is to make me money, but—”
“My job is to make you rich.”
“I’ll get rich when I’m dead. For now I just need to keep the bills paid.”
"Isn't the expression ‘I’ll rest when I’m dead?’” Charles asked.
“I’ll never get rich if I rest,” Miss May said. “So when can I expect the money transferred back into my account?”
Charles sighed and sat up straight, taking a more serious tone. “You want the whole sum?”
“That’s right,” Miss May said.
“Can I convince you to keep half with me? I’m telling you. This is a solid investment. You’ll double your money in no time.”
“What type of investment is it?” Miss May asked.
I watched Charles as I dropped hefty balls of cookie dough onto the baking sheet. The way he shifted in his chair made me uncomfortable.
“I can’t disclose that information,” Charles said. “But trust me. This opportunity is once in a lifetime.”
Miss May rubbed her chin, considering the proposal. “I guess I could keep half with you. At least for now.”
“How about three-quarters?” Charles didn’t miss a beat.
“I don’t know,” Miss May said. “I need to put some of that money back into the farm.”
Charles smiled and his eyes twinkled. “You have to take big risks to get big rewards, May. Imagine the improvements you could make with increased capital."
Miss May bit her lip. She hated the possibility of missing out on a big opportunity, and Charles was saying all the right things to convince her to take the risk.
"It would be nice to double my money," she said. "Perhaps you're right. It might be smart to keep at least part of the money in your fund."
"Just part?" Charles leaned in, and the greedy look in his eyes hit me right in the stomach.
"Wait!" I said.
Both Miss May and Charles turned.
“I think you should take your money out.” I said to Miss May. “Every penny!”
Fitz scoffed, “That’s ridiculous! She just said she wants to leave the money with me!”
Miss May over at me. “Why do you say that, Chelsea?"
My heart raced. I hadn’t prepared a statement. But it was too late to back out, so I babbled, as I often did. “Uh... I mean, I’m no expert, but I have a friend in finance. In the city. They’ve been telling me the market's supposed to crash. Soon. So... yeah. Not a good time for risky investments.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” Charles asked. “I know tons of guys in finance.”
“It’s a woman, as a matter of fact.” No reason my lie couldn’t be empowering to women.
“Well she’s wrong,” Charles said.
“I doubt it,” I said. “Her name is... Millini Gustafo. She’s the youngest woman who’s ever worked as a VP at one of the Big Five. You can search her on your phone.”
Big five!? Search her on your phone? What was I doing?
“That's a great idea,” Charles pulled out his smart phone. “How do you spell Millini? Never heard that one."
He had a good point. Millini was the fakest name in the history of fake names. “Uh. She’s French. And Filipina. And Chinese! A quarter, on her mother’s side.”
“French-Filipina-Chinese. Exotic.” Charles opened the browser on his phone. “How do you spell the name?”
I stammered. "Uh—uh—"
Charles laughed and spat his next words like venom. “That's what I figured. 'Uh uh uh!' Stupid fake made-up name. Why are you trying to sabotage me, Chelsea? Are you that bored? Don't you have any more cookies to bake?”
“Charles!” Miss May stood.
Charles stammered as though he had shocked himself along with us. “Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry. That came from...nowhere. Chelsea. Please forgive me. I should not have snapped. It's just, the name sounded, uh, I'm sorry. There's no excuse.”
“Too late, Fitz.” Miss May looked Charles square in the eye. “I want my money back. All of it.”
Charles tittered. “May! Don't let my small lapse in social etiquette sway you. This opportunity is once in a lifetime. I don't want you to miss out.”
“I’ve missed out on plenty in my life,” Miss May said. “I don’t need to be rich to be happy.”
Charles laughed. "Everyone needs to be rich, May. Are you crazy?”
“Sure, Charles. I'm crazy. Can you transfer the money this evening?”
Charles sighed. “All of it? You’re certain?”
Miss May crossed her arms. “Yep.”
"Are you sure I can't—"
"Charles!"
"OK, OK." Charles said. He looked at me. “Millini Gustafo, huh?”
I nodded.
“She must know something I don’t.”
I shrugged. Guess so, ya creep!
“Charles,” Miss May said. “Are you going to transfer the money?"
“Yeah, yeah,” Charles said. “I’ll make the withdrawal request. You should have your investment back in three to five business days.”
“Too long,” Miss May said. "I want the money tonight.”
“The government regulates large withdrawals,” Charles said. “It takes time.”
Miss May narrowed her eyes. Charles shrugged. It looked like he was telling the truth.
“Fine,” Miss May said. “I’ll give you the week.”
Charles let out a deep exhale. “And I can’t convince you to leave something in?”
“No you cannot,” Miss May said.
“OK. Thank you for your business.” Charles stood up, smoothed his rumpled suit, and headed out of the kitchen.
He turned back before he left. “Those cookies smell incredible, by the way.”
I smiled. “They’ll be on sale all week in the bake shop."
Charles nodded and exited.
Miss May and I froze to listen as he left the house. The heels of his dress shoes clacked on the wood floors. Then the front door creaked open and closed with a thud. And he was gone.
I breathed a sigh of relief as Charles drove his car off the farm. But when I turned back to Miss May her face was ghost-white, and she had furrowed her eyebrows so deep they almost touched.
“Miss May. What’s wrong?”
Miss May looked down, squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"What is it?" I asked again.
Miss May looked up, and her face was even whiter. Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“That man has all my money.”
LATER THAT DAY, WE went to Grandma’s and ate lunch with Teeny in our favorite booth.
Miss May told Teeny the story of what had happened with Charles, and Teeny couldn't believe her tiny little ears.
“What do you mean Charles has all your money?” Teeny's eyes bugged out. “Like half?”
“No, T." Miss May said. “I mean the majority. Ninety percent.”
“You're the smartest woman I know,” Teeny said. “Why would you invest with that kid? He stinks like a rat from a mile away!”
“I didn’t give the money to Charles. I gave it to his dad. Before...”
“Before he lost his marbles in the loony hole?”
Miss May nodded. “I wouldn’t put it like that. But yes. I trusted Old Bill.”
“Now his sneaky kid’s trying to screw you!”
“Can you two please try to relax?” I put my hand on Miss May’s arm. “You told Charles you want your money back. Everything will be fine.”
“Now you say that,” Miss May said. “Two hours ago you were inventing exotic friends to give me a reason to pull my cash.”
“That was because I didn’t trust his ‘secret’ investment. But we’ve got no reas
on to believe he’ll run off with your cash. He’s let you make withdrawals before, right?”
Miss May nodded. “And he always processes them on time.”
“And you said you got an email from the bank, right? The withdrawal is being processed."
Miss May nodded once more.
I threw up my hands in exasperation, “So why are we all so worried?”
A burly voice boomed from behind me. "Charles Fitz is trying to steal everybody’s money!”
We turned to see the town lawyer, Tom Gigley, approaching in a huff. He hitched up his pants and sat beside Teeny in the booth.
“What are you talking about?” Miss May said.
“What do you think I'm talking about?" Gigley said. “That little weasel won’t let me make a withdrawal!”
Miss May, Teeny and I gasped, but Gigley was too busy flagging a passing waiter to register our shock. “Yeah can I get two slices of Boston Cream and a chocolate chip cookie?”
“Back it up, Gigley! What did you say?” Teeny leaned in, eyes wide.
“You heard me. The little creep’s taken my money hostage.”
“How much?” Teeny pressed forward.
“All of it! I invested every nickel and dime and Sacajawea with his old man years ago!” Gigley looked down and shuffled his silverware. “Shame what’s happened with Bill.”
“It sure is,” Miss May said. “But that doesn’t make it OK for his kid to steal our money.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Gigley said. “He's got your money too?”
Miss May stirred her coffee. “He said I could get it back, but it’d take a few days.”
“Same thing he told me,” said Gigley.
“So maybe it’s true,” I said. “Right?”
Miss May shrugged. Gigley sipped his coffee. Neither of them seemed optimistic, and we all settled into a contemplative funk.
Then a quiet ding-ding brought me back to the present.
I checked my phone. I had a text message from an unknown number...
“PINE GROVE DAM. 7 PM. IT'S ABOUT THE CASH.”
“Whoa,” I said. I reached over to show Miss May my phone, but then her phone dinged.
Then Gigley’s phone dinged, and I could tell by his slack-jawed expression that he had just received the same message.
“Dam?” I said.
Gigley nodded. “7 p.m.”
I took a deep breath and let it out with a puff.
I didn’t particularly feel like going to the Pine Grove Dam, partly because it was freezing outside and partly for more, well, personal reasons. Dread gurgled in my stomach.
“That’s kind of late,” said Teeny.
‘Kind of late’ was an understatement. Seven o’clock might as well have been midnight in Pine Grove, so whatever was going on... it was serious.
Did you enjoy this sneak preview of Book Two?
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A Note From the Authors
The big secret about Chelsea Thomas is that she’s two people. We’re a married couple, actually. Chelsea and Matthew Thomas. That’s how we got the name.
We thought maybe people wouldn’t like the idea that these apple orchard mysteries are co-written, but they are, so what are we gonna do about it?
We’ve worked together as screenwriters for lots of years, but this is the first book we’ve written as a team, and we’ve loved the process.
The Chelsea character is a lot like the real Chelsea. Little and blonde. Sometimes shy or scared of confrontation.
The Miss May character is a lot like Matt. Big, blunt, and always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.
And Teeny is like Chelsea’s mom. Her real-life nickname is Teeny. She’s super-teeny-tiny. And she’s got the same pugnacious attitude and willingness to speak her mind.
Matt grew up in suburban New York, right around the corner from a neighborhood called “Pine Grove.” Chelsea grew up in rural Ohio, around people and places a lot like those in this book.
We both left home almost thirteen years ago for college, and moved from there to Los Angeles to pursue a career in screenwriting, so the idea of returning home to the comfort of the people and places you know and love resonates deeply with us. That feeling truly is cozy, and in lots of ways it’s the most beautiful part of life.
We’re moving back to the East Coast in the winter of 2019 to be closer to our families, so in many ways, we’re going through a Chelsea Thomas journey of our own.
If you’ve purchased this book or plan to purchase any other in the series, you’re supporting that move and our lives “back home,” so thank you.
Special thanks to Christy Murphy, who has guided us through this process. Her “Christy and Mom” cozy mystery series were our inspiration, and her help has been invaluable. Additional thanks of course to our family and friends, all of whom we love and appreciate more than they know.
We hope you enjoyed this introduction to Chelsea, Miss May, and Pine Grove. Reviews help other readers decide if they want to buy a book, so please review this book if you can! Even short reviews help a ton, and we’d love to hear what you thought of our story.
If you liked this book, and you’re excited for more, book two in our Apple Orchard Murder Mystery Series is available for preorder on Amazon now.
Book Two kicks off at Pine Grove’s annual winter festival, but things take a turn for the murderous when a dead body turns up frozen in the forest.
Click HERE to preorder Book Two now.
Until next time,
Chelsea and Matt
AKA
Chelsea Thomas
Check out these other titles by Chelsea Thomas (Available for preorder on Amazon):
Cooking the Books (Book 2)
Candy Apple Killer (Book 3)
Don't Forget Your Secret Recipe
Click HERE to join the Secret Recipe Club
Table of Contents
Title Page
Apple Die (Apple Orchard Murder Mystery Series, #1)
1 Altar Falter
2 Jersey Jailbreak
3 No Place Like Home
4 Rehearsal Realization
5 Deader Than Dead
6 Questions and Chaos
7 Jumping to Confusions
8 A Sleuth Is Born
9 Return to the Scene
10 Brief Relief
11 The Search Continues
12 Baking Up A Plan
13 Pies and Alibis
14 The Secret Destination
15 Appointments Required
16 Ideas and Investigations
17 Suspects and Sprinkles
18 Tardy Tell All
19 A Shocking Development
20 Ominous Orchard
21 Cabin Fever
22 Driver’s Ed
23 Flying Sidekick
24 Victory Pie
Book 2 Preview
A Note From the Authors
Don't Forget Your Secret Recipe
Apple Die Page 15
