Ouna Bay Cozy Mystery Boxed Set (4-Book Bundle)

by Deany Ray

  He sipped from his coffee. “But turns out, I like it even more than I thought. No constant car noises directly under my window early in the morning. No hustled people on the streets hurrying to work. I can even hear some birds singing from my room.”

  “I'm glad you're fond of our town. I never did get the appeal of living in the big city.”

  “And I'm lucky that I can work from wherever. I brought my work laptop with me. If I think about it, it's actually not a typical vacation,” he said laughing.

  I served him the muffins thinking that he looked even better when he laughed. Then I tried to force myself not to think about him in this way. I still didn't know if he had a secret agenda. If only there was not this inexplicable attraction I had towards him. This was something I hadn't experienced in a long time.

  I was so absorbed with my chit-chat with Houston, I hadn't heard the door of the café open. Suddenly, Roger was standing in front of me, next to Houston. I startled and felt my stomach clench again.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him, skipping the "hello's" and "how are you's." I really wasn't in the mood for politeness towards him.

  “Becky, you wouldn't talk to me yesterday. I know you were here. You're always here. So I came by. Wanted to see if you're okay. You must have had a shock when you saw the window.”

  So now he wants to see if I'm okay? He almost looked worried.

  “Roger, I'm fine. The window was broken, it got fixed yesterday, everything's good,” I said very determined. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

  “Becky, I'm sorry. I already told you a million times I'm sorry,” he said in a pleading voice.

  I saw Houston's ears prick up, since he was sitting right next to us and probably overhearing everything. This guy apparently had a natural talent for picking the right places to sit.

  “You did tell me that a million times, but it doesn't change anything. The past cannot be changed. But don't worry about me. I'll be fine.”

  I took the coffee pot and headed towards a table with customers, not looking back. I heard the door swing and I turned to see Roger leaving. I blew out a sigh of relief.

  When I returned behind the counter, I locked eyes with Houston.

  “So that's your ex-fiancé? It sounded like something bad must have happened between the two of you.”

  I looked at him but couldn't give him an answer. I felt anger build up inside me just remembering what he had done.

  “If you ask me, he's an idiot,” Houston continued.

  I froze and frowned with my eyebrows, not knowing what he meant by that, but his affirmation alone was a shocker.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “He had you and somehow he obviously screwed up. So he's an idiot for letting you go,” Houston answered looking straight into my eyes.

  My knees felt weak and soft and my heart did a jump at hearing that. I think, for the first time ever, I felt butterflies in my stomach.

  Chapter Six

  That evening, I went over to Rosalie to try out her new exercise and fitness DVD. The way I knew her, she would get bored of it in a week and move on to something else but hey, you never know what sticks.

  I parked in front of Rosalie's house and as I got out of my car, she was already at her window waving at me. Guess she was pretty excited about that DVD.

  “Well, come on in,” she shouted from the kitchen as I came in through the front door.

  “Is that...popcorn I'm smelling?” I sniffed the air.

  “Oh yeah. With extra butter,” she answered coming from the kitchen with a big bowl of popcorn.

  “I thought we were working out. I don't think that goes with greasy, buttery popcorn.”

  “Oh now. We'll be needing our strength for the workout,” Rosalie said as she put the bowl on her coffee table in front of the couch.

  Right. Our strength.

  She inserted the DVD into the player and we positioned ourselves in front of the TV. A woman appeared on the screen doing some warm-up exercises for the arms and the legs. We followed.

  “This looks easy,” Rosalie said, satisfied.

  Two minutes later, the same woman appeared doing some complicated dance moves, jiggling all over the screen. Again, we followed. Or at least tried to.

  “Are you getting this?” I asked, breathing heavily.

  “I'm totally getting this,” Rosalie answered snapping her arms in the air and doing some salsa moves with her feet.

  Needless to say, that didn't look like the choreography we saw on the screen.

  Ten minutes later, we were soaked and couldn't breathe anymore.

  “Okay, this is way...uf...too...uff...hard. Maybe I shouldn't have bought...uf...the advanced DVD,” Rosalie said between catching puffs of air.

  We both flopped on the couch breathing heavily.

  Another five minutes later, we were guzzling bottles of water and devouring the popcorn.

  “See? Now we have our strength back,” Rosalie took one big handful of popcorn.

  “You're always perfectly prepared, my dear,” I said and started laughing.

  After a while, we were our old selves again and started chatting.

  “I'm thinking about quitting my job,” Rosalie blurted out.

  I stopped with a handful of popcorn in mid-air.

  “What? What do you mean, quit your job?” I asked, incredulous.

  “I know it comes as a shock, but it's kind of boring,” she answered resting on the couch.

  “Really?” I asked teasing. “You thought a cashier's job is exciting and full of adventures?”

  “I know it's not a James Bond movie, but I still hadn't thought that it would be this boring.”

  “I thought you liked snooping around other people's accounts,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, I do. But how do I get excitement out of the remaining seven hours and a half a day?” she asked looking at me sheepishly.

  Then we both started laughing with the image of Rosalie just sitting in front of her computer looking at a blank screen, propping her chin in both hands and daydreaming about being a CIA spy.

  “Rosalie, you know I support you whatever you want to do,” I finally said whipping away the tears of laughter. “What is it that you want to do?”

  “That's the problem. I don't know,” she answered.

  “Don't worry. You'll find something. I'll help you with that.”

  “Gee, thanks Becky! What would I do without you?” Rosalie gave me a warm, big hug.

  “Hey, what are friends for? You can start working at the Blue Bay Café if you want.”

  “Well, that's an idea. But you should know, I'll be needing a sample of every cake and pastry you make,” she said grinning.

  “I was afraid of that,” I said. “Then chances are good that I'll be going bankrupt if you'll be eating everything.”

  “Fine, I won't be tasting everything then. I'll be good,” Rosalie said, almost disappointed.

  After she said she was going to think about what her next job would be, we decided we needed another big bowl of buttery popcorn. When Rosalie asked me about my day, I told her about the second visit of Houston and about Roger coming to the café.

  “That bastard! How dare he come to your café as if nothing happened? You should have one of those restraining orders issued,” Rosalie said furiously.

  “You're such a good friend, Rosalie, but I don't think that's necessary. Not only is there no legal basis for it, but we're living in a town where we're bound to run into each other, sooner or later.”

  “Right. Like at that Yearly Brunch of theirs,” she said.

  “Exactly. And I don't like it, but I've decided I can handle it,” I said, taking another handful of popcorn. “He heard about the smashed window and probably just wanted to see what's that about.”

  “Huh. And who's to say he wasn't the one who did it?”

  I pushed that thought out of my mind. I couldn't imagine Roger being that cruel.
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br />   “And what about that Houston guy? Is there something going on between you two?” she moved her eyebrows up and down very fast.

  “You know everything, don't you?” I teased her. “There's nothing going on. I think the small town charm did it for him.”

  “I think he only comes in to see you. And I just had a date with that car mechanic last week. If you date Houston, we could double-date,” Rosalie said hopefully.

  “Oh right. That car mechanic. I thought you wrote him off. And you're thinking way ahead here. Besides, he's a Hayes. Remember them? The ones that keep sending me those letters in hopes I change my mind and sell the café.”

  “I know, I know,” she said with a sigh. “And he suddenly appeared on the same day of the mystery broken window. Coinkidink.”

  “Exactly. Another reason why it wouldn't be smart to trust him.”

  We both stared at the carpet as we let that conclusion sink in.

  “Maybe I'll give that car mechanic a second chance,” Rosalie finally said with a grin.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning I couldn't believe that I woke up with a mini-hangover. Sometime during the previous evening, Rosalie opened up a bottle of wine which we enjoyed with a lot more popcorn. It was getting late, so I stayed the night at her place. Since I don't need much wine to get on the happy side, I woke up with a headache and a huge thirst for water. However, I had to admit, the evening at Rosalie's made me forget for a few hours about the recent disturbing happenings. And that was good.

  Rosalie was fresh as a flower and already in her kitchen cooking pancakes.

  “Morning,” she chirped when I came into the kitchen. “Coffee's already ready. Help yourself.”

  “How come you're so active already?” I asked and took a seat at her kitchen table with a mug of coffee.

  “Why shouldn't I be? It's a new day with new prospects. Oh, you had too much wine yesterday, right?”

  She brought the pancakes on a plate and put the maple syrup on the table.

  “Right. Two glasses is way too much for me. I'm not as resistant as you are,” I told her digging into the pancakes.

  “Then you need practice,” she said with a grin.

  “Oh God, I don't want to hear anything about wine for a long time.”

  We both devoured our pancakes and sipped our coffees.

  “This is weird,” I finally said.

  “What's weird?” Rosalie asked.

  “You making pancakes for me. I mean, someone making me pancakes at all.”

  “I know what you mean. You're usually the one baking the goods for everyone else. It was time for a change this morning,” Rosalie said with a smile.

  “Thanks. They're even more delicious when somebody else makes them!”

  After our wholesome breakfast, we both headed off to work. Rosalie drove to yet another exciting day on her job and I stopped by my house to take a shower and get clean clothes.

  Arriving at Dev's kiosk, I browsed through some newer issues of cooking magazines. I was particularly looking at a picture of a white chocolate cake when someone approached me from behind. It was Houston.

  “Good Lord, Houston. You startled me,” I said.

  “I'm sorry Becky, I didn't mean to do that. I took a morning stroll and saw you standing here.” He gave me one of his gorgeous smiles.

  “You know, I'm starting to think you're stalking me,” I said with a laugh. “You come by the café two days in a row and now you're everywhere else I go.”

  Houston's smile got larger. “Again, I'm very sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I just like your company. And of course, your muffins are heavenly, so who wouldn't come by the café every single day?”

  Omg, I think I was blushing. Just in case, I turned away, so he wouldn't see me. I kept pondering if I could trust him. It would be so much easier if he weren't a Hayes. Now I kept asking myself if his appearance in Ouna Bay and his charm was just part of a big scheme to get me to sell the Blue Bay Café. Maybe he was sent here to gain my trust first. Or maybe I was just paranoid and thinking too much of myself. That a big company would go to this much trouble for little ole me is actually preposterous, isn't it?

  I was deep in my thoughts and hadn't noticed someone else approaching. She stopped right next to me and took a magazine, not even sending a gaze in my direction. After she gave the money to Dev and turned to leave, she looked at me with the coldest eyes I've ever seen. A chill went down my spine.

  “Who was that? I thought small town people were all friendly,” Houston finally broke the silence after she left.

  “That's just...an old acquaintance,” I said picking up some magazines.

  “An old acquaintance? If you say so.”

  I couldn't tell him who she was. I didn't want to remember. It was bad enough I had to see Roger again at the Yearly Official Brunch the next day.

  I headed to the café to get it ready for opening. Houston wanted to accompany me so we went together. We talked some more, like two old friends. He told me he usually takes a stroll late at night to get a clear head and leave the stress behind. But being in such a peaceful environment without the noise he had back home, he decided to also take a walk early in the morning.

  We arrived at the café and I set the coffee brewing. Houston took his usual seat at the counter. It was almost comforting knowing he was there. I set the brownies, muffins, scones and doughnuts in the pastry case and served Houston his usual blueberry muffin.

  I was searching in the back for a clean wiping towel and concluded that it was soon time to tidy up the place. Over the years there were so many cleaning products, brooms and wipe cloths gathered, that it became more efficient to buy a new one instead of looking for a clean one. I even found a half-empty, small can of paint thinner, which I didn't remember buying. I made a mental note to ask Maia if the can belonged to her.

  I also checked the mailbox and found another letter from the Hayes Corporation.

  “Here's another letter from your uncle,” I said, showing the envelope to Houston.

  “Isn't this like the tenth one?” he asked.

  “I think so.” I looked at him trying to find out how much he knew about his uncle's business.

  “Don't worry. I'm going to tell him to stop sending you those. I know he can't convince you to sell. And don't tell him I said this, but I wouldn't want you to sell either. This café is all you. I wouldn't want to come here one day and not find...you,” he said.

  I felt my knees getting weak again. The way he was looking at me, burning his deep, brown eyes into mine had an immediate “I think I'm going to melt” feeling. For a lack of something to say, I smiled at him timidly and began with the preparations.

  Five minutes later, the phone rang. I picked up, wondering who calls before opening hours. The moment I heard the voice on the other end of the line the blood in my veins froze.

  “You shouldn't feel safe at your café anymore, Becky.”

  My hands began shaking and a cold chill zapped through my body. It was a male voice but it sounded inhumanly deep, almost robotic. It took all my power will to speak.

  “Who is this?” I said with a trembling voice.

  Then I heard only the dial tone.

  I remained with the handset close to my ear, not able to move or to react and I felt tears filling up my eyes.

  “Becky, what's wrong? Who was that?” Houston asked but his voice sounded muffled and far away. “Becky, you've gotten white as a ghost. Tell me what's wrong.” He approached me and took the handset putting it to his ear, then hung up. With his hand at the small of my back and holding my hands in his, he took me to the nearest chair and sat me down.

  I was finally able to look into his eyes while warm tears brushed my cheeks. Houston brought me a glass of water and I could see the concern in his eyes. After taking a few sips of water I was able to speak again. I told him what I'd heard and I could see his jaw getting tighter and his grip on the chair handle getting stronger.

&nbs
p; “Has this happened before?” he asked.

  “No, I've never gotten a call like that,” I answered still holding the armchairs.

  “What about the front door window?” he looked towards the entrance.

  “I don't know. I mean, I don't know who that was.”

  “Did something else strange happen?”

  “Well...” I hesitated for a second not knowing how much to share with him but I couldn't hold it in anymore. Being continuously suspicious of other people, especially Houston, and always thinking if he had an ulterior motive was exhausting.

  “There was one other thing that I found strange. Two nights ago I found a flower bouquet on my doorstep. Only they were dead flowers,” I said and swallowed, disgusted. I also told him about the flowers being anemones and that I had no clue why this was all happening or who it could have been.

  “In other words, you're being harassed.”

  “I guess so,” I said and got another chill down my back at hearing that. It just sounded too real.

  Houston leaned forward and put my head on his shoulder and took me in his arms.

  “Don't worry, Becky. We're going to stop him,” he said in the softest voice I'd ever heard.

  There was something about him saying the word 'we' and the way he comforted me and was close to me that made me melt into his arms. I never felt this protected with Roger. And he was working on the force.

  Houston's shirt was soaked with my tears but he didn't seem to mind.

  Chapter Eight

  After what seemed like an eternity, I peeled off of Houston's shirt and looked him in the eyes.

  “Why did you came to Ouna Bay? And why are you still here?” I needed to know the truth. I needed to know he had nothing to do with all this, because I wanted to trust him so much.

  Houston's eyes softened and he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Because I saw a picture of you,” he finally said.