“Oh, absolutely not!” Missy began to scold the dogs and shoo them from the room.
“Oh honey, it’s not the babies’ fault,” Dolly stopped her, holding up a hand. “I wanted their company and told them that it was okay for them to be in here.” Spencer looked at Missy apologetically and started to reach for the fluffy Malti-Poo, only to have his hand swatted away by the sweet old woman.
“Now you just hold it right there, young man,” Dolly insisted. “I’ll not have you removing this precious girl,” she said, kissing the top of Bitsy’s head.
Missy was in a quandary. She had very strict rules about dogs in dining areas. As much as she loved them and their company, she had to maintain a certain decorum. Not all guests liked animals, some were allergic, and then, of course, there were the health department regulations since she was serving food. Besides, she refused to allow someone to lead her respectful, well-behaved canines astray.
“I think we can reach a happy compromise,” she said finally. “The weather is lovely out on the patio this morning. If you’d like to finish your breakfast out there, the girls are allowed to sit under the table. But you’ll have to promise not to feed them from your plate – they have very sensitive tummies and I’d hate to have them get sick,” she fibbed. In reality, both dogs seemed to have cast-iron stomachs and had eaten dog toys, sticks they’d found in the garden, and various plants and leaves, washed down with ocean water, with little to no effect on their digestive systems, but Missy certainly didn’t want them to grow to expect to be fed from the table. That was a definite no-no.
“What a perfect idea,” Dolly smiled sweetly. “Here, young man,” she said to Spencer, finally relinquishing Bitsy to him temporarily. “You can bring her out to the patio for me.” With one hand gripping her cane, and the other stroking Toffee’s silky golden head, the elderly woman headed to the patio, content in the company of her canine friends, and seemingly oblivious to the fact that her eldest son hadn’t come down to breakfast yet.
Dolly stayed out on the patio for most of the morning, basking in the sunshine and sweet breezes, with Toffee and Bitsy soaking up the attention and affection that she lavished upon them. Spencer checked on her several times, refilling her teacup and making sure that she was happy, and the rest of the family finished their food, mostly in silence, and drifted away from the table.
“Wow…that was a cheery group,” Ben remarked, in a low voice, when only he, his wife, Grayson, Sarah and Spencer remained.
“Well, I’ve had a case of the “brew flu” myself on occasion, and I pretty much just want to stay in bed and watch TV under those circumstances,” Spencer pointed out.
“Brew flu?” Sarah asked, puzzled.
“A hangover,” Grayson explained. When she still looked mystified, he tried again. “When you drink too much alcohol, you can feel pretty bad the next day. Or, so I’ve heard,” he grinned mischievously, eliciting chuckles from the others.
“Oh. Why would anyone do that, if it makes you feel bad?” she wondered aloud.
“Because sometimes we’re a little bit slow in learning that particular lesson,” Spencer admitted. “Have you ever had a drink?” he asked, knowing the oppressively controlled circumstances in which she’d grown up.
“No, and from the sound of it, I’m not missing anything,” Sarah shook her head.
Spencer stood, glancing at his watch. “Looks like time to head over to Cupcakes in Paradise. I’ll walk with you if you’re ready,” he offered. Sarah looked over at Grayson, who answered for her.
“Actually, I was planning to help out over there today too, so if you have other things to do, Sarah and I can manage on our own,” the shy youth said. Owning Missy’s former shop in Louisiana had done wonders for his confidence level, and the shop was as successful as ever.
The young Marine looked at Grayson, then at Sarah, then back at Grayson again, getting the picture. “That’s great, man,” he nodded. “I needed to take a look at a few things around here today, so that’ll give me a chance to get a head start on those.” Spencer gave the rest of the group a brief smile, then left, going out through the back door, while Grayson and Sarah headed for the foyer. Ben and Cheryl exchanged an amused glance and baby Cammie was focused on licking smears of homemade strawberry jam from her fingers.
Missy hurried into the dining room as the little family was getting ready to go. “Have you guys seen Spencer?” she asked, somewhat out of breath.
“He went out the back door from the kitchen the last time we saw him,” Ben replied. “Everything okay?” he asked, knowing the concerned look on his former boss’s face all too well.
“I hope so, darlin, I really hope so,” she tossed over her shoulder on her way to the kitchen.
Chapter 7
“Where’s Dolly?” Missy asked, as Spencer mounted the stairs behind her, master keys in hand. If there was bad news to be found, she didn’t want the poor elderly woman to see it firsthand.
“She’s napping in her room at the other end of the hall,” Samuel said, shifting nervously from foot to foot as they waited for the Marine to unlock Paul’s door. There had been repeated attempts to contact him, by knocking on the door, calling and texting, to no avail. Though the brothers didn’t seem terribly close, it was obvious that Sam was concerned.
Spencer turned the key in the lock, but didn’t open it yet. “I’ll go in first, and see if I find anything,” he said, looking pointedly at Missy and Sasha. “If the guy is passed out from drinking, he may be in a state that he’d rather not have everyone witness.”
Sam made a disgusted face. “Good point, young man. See what you find, and let us know.”
The Marine opened the door and slipped inside, coming back a few seconds later. He turned to Samuel, looking very somber. “Sir…I’m terribly sorry…”
**
Chas and Spencer made certain that no one entered Paul Lieberman’s room, which was no easy task in an Inn full of relatives. The police and Coroner arrived within minutes, and cordoned off the area, stationing an officer outside of the room so that they wouldn’t be disturbed while collecting evidence. Dolly nearly fell into a faint when she heard the news about her eldest son, and had been taken to her room to rest, being spared from the sight of Paul being wheeled out the back door in the body bag.
**
“What’s happening?” Missy whispered to Chas as he followed the Coroner and the other officers out the door, while the forensics team continued to work in Paul’s room.
“Nothing conclusive, other than the fact that Paul is deceased. I’ll be in touch later, but it looks like it could be a long day,” he said in a low voice, kissing her briefly on the cheek before going out the door behind his coworkers.
The front door had just closed when Missy heard footsteps slapping against the marble of the foyer, coming toward her. She turned to see a clearly angry Samuel Lieberman, followed by a wide-eyed Sasha, and their teary-eyed and somewhat bewildered daughter.
“I hope you know that if there has been foul play of any sort, I intend to sue you and your husband for every dime that you have,” Sam thundered, his face red and cheeks shaking. “This is inexcusable. There had to have been some kind of negligence on your part that contributed to this. You knew that he was vegan. Perhaps you cooked something with animal fat and it threw his body into a seizure,” the furious man accused, spittle flying.
“I insist that our entire payment be refunded, including money spent on the cake and decorating and the caterer. You and your husband will not take advantage of us,” he seethed. His wife kept taking fearful glances at him, looking at her husband as though he were a time bomb that might just explode at any second, and their daughter kept her gaze miserably on the ground.
Missy could understand grief – she’d been through enough of it herself. She could also understand being caught totally off guard when the tides of fate seemed to turn dangerously. But what she could not understand was the lack of priorities on Samuel Lieberman’s pa
rt.
Drawing herself up to maximize every inch of her petite frame, she stepped closer and looked Samuel Lieberman dead in the eye, not flinching even a little bit.
“Now you just listen to me, mister,” she began, southern accent heavy, her eyes flashing blue sparks. “No one on my staff or in my family did anything, accidentally or otherwise, to harm your brother. We took every precaution to prepare his food separately, and bent over backwards to make sure that his needs, along with everyone else’s in your party were taken care of,” she said, eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what it is within you that makes you think of money at a time like this, but I refuse to even discuss a refund or anything else relating to what is owed, when your brother is taking his last ride to the morgue. Where is your heart, Samuel Lieberman? Your brother just died – now for goodness sake, think about that. You should be grieving and helping your family through their grief. He may have been the older brother, but you should be ashamed that you’re not leading your family through this tough time. Now, you can just stop hollerin’ at me about money, and take your wife and poor little daughter in your arms and give ‘em some love, for crying out loud,” Missy insisted, gesturing at the women huddled together behind the last Lieberman brother.
A throat cleared behind Missy, and she whirled, still in the moment, to see Spencer, trying to get her attention.
“Can I speak with you for a moment, Mrs. Beckett?” he asked quietly. Missy wasn’t certain whether he was merely trying to defuse the situation, or if he actually had something that he needed to speak with her about.
“Of course, Spencer,” she nodded, and giving Samuel one last scathing look, she followed the young Marine out of the room.
Chapter 8
“Oh my, that’s awful,” Echo gasped, when Missy told her and Kel the next morning during their daily coffee and cupcake get-together.
“Yeah,” Missy nodded, lost in thought.
“He didn’t seem that old,” the redhead remarked, picking at a vegan blueberry cupcake. “And you’d think with his dietary choices that he’d be healthier than most.”
“Oh, I don’t know…some of us who happen to enjoy a tasty bit of animal every now and again manage to stay in fine shape,” Kel teased, puffing out his chest.
“How can you joke at a time like this?” Echo glared at the artist.
“Just trying to lighten the mood, my flame-haired beauty,” he replied, raising a questioning eyebrow at her hostility.
She rolled her eyes in response and took a sip of her coffee.
“I don’t think that he died of natural causes,” Missy sighed, putting down her mug.
Echo and Kel stared at her in silence for a moment.
“Suicide?” Kel asked quietly.
“Possibly,” she shrugged. “Or murder.”
Echo’s eyes widened. “What do you know that we don’t?” she demanded, as she and Kel both leaned forward.
“Nothing really,” she frowned. “Spencer is the one who found Paul. I never even saw his body, other than the shape of it in the body bag on the gurney when they wheeled him away, but Spence said that there were some things he saw that made him think that maybe all was not as it seemed.”
“Like what?” her friends asked in unison, looking at each other briefly in surprise before turning back to her.
“I don’t know if I should be talking about the details of the case,” she worried.
“That never bothered you before,” Echo pointed out.
“So, don’t tell us details then, tell us what you’re thinking,” Kel urged.
“Well, I think maybe Samuel Lieberman killed his brother,” she admitted finally.
Missy related the heated conversation that they’d had in the foyer, indicating how strange that she thought it was for Sam to be focused on money rather than the loss of his brother.
“People handle grief and stress in their own way,” Echo commented, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Maybe he was trying to focus on something else, like the money, so that he could forget for a moment about losing his only brother,” she suggested.
“Maybe,” Missy clearly wasn’t convinced.
“Or,” Kel decided to put his two cents in. “Perhaps you’re looking at the wrong suspect altogether,” he raised his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” Echo asked, as Missy stared at him.
“Let’s think back to the first afternoon tea that the Lieberman family enjoyed upon their arrival. Who was it, precisely, who tried to monopolize the deceased, and ended up carousing with him until all hours of the night?” he asked smugly.
“Carla!” Missy and Echo exclaimed together.
“What?” asked the woman herself, having come in the door unnoticed.
Echo recovered from the shock of the potential murderer suddenly appearing far more quickly than Missy did, and covered smoothly.
“Kel was just asking who we were going to hire to help out with the holiday decorating here and at the Inn, and of course we both knew that it wouldn’t be anyone but you,” the redhead lied through her teeth, and quite convincingly at that.
“Silly man,” the decorator kissed the top of his head, after breezing over to the table, taking a seat without being asked. “Who else would they use?” she rolled her eyes at the very idea.
“Well, he seemed to be under the impression that there had been some hard feelings between you and I,” Echo smiled sweetly. “But of course, that’s utter nonsense.” In for a penny, in for a pound. The Californian had started out lying and hadn’t been able to stop.
“Of course it is,” Carla waved a hand dismissively. “Why on earth would I waste time in conflict with you?” her smile didn’t even come close to reaching her eyes.
“I don’t even remember any of the conversations that I’ve had with you, so how impactful could they have been?” Echo remarked rhetorically, sipping her coffee.
“Likewise,” the decorator drawled, her smile a thin, white line.
“Well, that’s settled then. We’re all friends and life is good,” Kel said, standing abruptly. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a presentation to prepare, so I’ll be on my way and leave the decorating discussion to you ladies,” he bowed slightly and turned to go.
“Oh, right!” Echo exclaimed, shooting to her feet as well. “I forgot to make copies of the Power Point for you to refer to, so I’ll have to be going too,” she said, looking apologetically at Missy and simply staring at Carla for a moment as if seeing her for the first time.
“More cupcakes for me,” the decorator gave her a barracuda smile.
“My mother always said that if I didn’t watch my figure, no one else would either,” Echo gave her parting shot, stuffing the last bite of her blueberry cupcake in her mouth before striding out the door behind Kel.
Carla glared at the redhead’s back as she exited, before turning to Missy. “So, about the décor…I’m thinking silver and gold with lots of fabric and bows,” she smiled brightly.
Chapter 9
Missy sat with Dolly Lieberman on the back patio. The sad elderly woman had Bitsy snuggled up under her chin, and she stroked the sympathetic little dog from head to tail, over and over. Toffee curled up under the table, her golden nose lying across Dolly’s feet. She hadn’t eaten since Paul’s body was discovered, despite the many wholesome and hearty treats that Missy had used to try to tempt her. She sipped at her tea with honey and lemon on occasion, but aside from the brew, showed no interest in accepting sustenance of any kind. Missy’s heart went out to the old dear, and she was afraid that if the frail woman didn’t eat something soon, that her health might be endangered.
Missy turned at the angry click-clack of high heels marching toward them, but Dolly didn’t even seem to have heard.
“Carla…what…” she began, a bit alarmed at the decorator’s expression.
“I can’t believe you tried to set me up. Now I know what you were talking about when I came into the cupcak
e shop. You weren’t talking about holiday decorations at all. You and your little friends cooked up a story about how I murdered Paul and then ran to your incompetent husband with it. I just came from being interrogated at the police station, and I don’t appreciate that one little bit. I always knew that the rude redhead was vindictive, but I expected more from you,” Carla snarled.
Dolly Lieberman had turned to face the furious woman at the mention of Paul’s name, and her face turned deathly white during the decorator’s tirade.
“Murder? My Paul was murdered?” she gasped, holding Bitsy in one hand and clutching at her chest with the other. A choking sound came from her and the dog jumped down from her lap as white spittle formed in the corners of the elderly woman’s mouth.
“Dolly? Dolly? Are you okay?” Missy asked, shaking the woman’s shoulder as she began writhing in her chair.
“Spencer!” Missy shrieked. “Call an ambulance!”
**
Because she wasn’t a family member, Missy wasn’t allowed to ride in the ambulance with Dolly, but Samuel went with her, holding her hand and staying out of the paramedics’ way as they worked to stabilize the fragile patient. She watched the flashing red lights disappear into the distance and hoped that her guest would be okay.
**
“So, Carla didn’t do it?” Missy asked Chas as they sat together attempting to eat dinner. The detective was distracted by the case, and Missy was worried about Dolly Lieberman. Both of them pushed more food around on their plates than they actually put in their mouths, which was a shame, because now that Maggie had recovered from her bout with the flu, she’d cooked up a lovely lamb stew with fluffy cloud-like dumplings.
“Nope, her alibi is pretty air-tight,” Chas sighed. “Which means I still have some digging to do.”
“You don’t think that he could have just died from natural causes?”
Chocolate Fudge Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 20 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 3
