Snakes & Snails and Deadly Cattails
Ivy Bloom Mysteries
Caryn Thomas Mitchell
Edited by
C M Essex
A Novel Obsession
Contents
Copyright
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
For More Ivy Bloom
Copyright
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Snakes & Snails and Deadly Cattails
© 2017 Caryn Thomas Mitchell
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Spencer Pierson
To everyone who read the first one and liked it, and especially for those who asked me to do it again, this is for you. Your encouragement means everything and kept me going, thank you from the bottom of my heart. A special thank you to my cousin Jeanie, my forever partner in crime. All those games of Clue finally paid off!
Chapter 1
"Ivy! Ivy did you hear?" my niece Jennifer came dashing through the door of my bookstore and fairly slid to a stop in front of me. Breathlessly she grabbed me by my arm and said again, "Did you hear?"
I couldn't think of anything exciting that had happened in the last few days, unless she meant when Norman, my shih tzu, had come running past chasing an imaginary bug and making me spill my coffee on my white pants. Probably not that. "Um, no, I suppose not, what happened?"
"They're coming, they're coming here!"
"Jenn, who's coming here? Slow down, breathe!"
"Nailing It! The web reality show, they're coming to Hydrangea Bay!"
"That reality show? The one where they build houses and redo properties? They're coming here? Why?"
"They were looking around for places to go and Hydrangea Bay went to the top of the list because of..." she said, trailing off to a whisper, "the compound."
The compound had contained a religious sect that had ended in calamity, with their home base in town burnt to the ground. The lot definitely needed some rehab. It was prime property and the brother of the previous owner seemed to have sold or leased or something to someone, and now it seemed clear that it was these film folks.
Returning to her normal voice she continued, "They're going to help rehab the lot, or something, and also help with our fundraising efforts for the Little Flowers who stayed in town. Anyway, we won and they're filming here next week!"
"Here in the bookstore?" my heart was suddenly aflutter as I looked around and saw a million little things I'd want to change before we ended up on the Internet in all our dusty glory.
"Well, not right here," she said, waving her hands around at the store, "although maybe? You never know what those designers are going to do! Maybe they'll come here for inspiration. I don't know of any bookstores like yours. They're so funny, always up for something new!"
"Then we're safe, the bookstore isn't much of an adventure," I said, mentally omitting the two murders that had occurred on the property several months ago. They weren't my fault, so I didn't count them as part of the atmosphere at Bloom's Books. We didn't set out to have any murders here, they just kind of...happened, as murders do I suppose. The people who were killed had been running the compound in question, leaving behind some of the cult followers, The Little Flowers, with nowhere to go. We were fund raising for them now in the store and we had a mini-triathlon planned too as a fundraising event. An event I was training for and trying not to think about. Tourists were beginning to descend on our town and lots of them liked to compete in outdoor events on vacation. Don't ask me why. Usually I only run when there's something chasing me, or chocolate or ice cream in front of me, but even I was training every morning to get ready. Well, nearly every morning.
The bookstore, owned by me and my sister Gigi, Jenn's mom, is in a rambling old mansion that we converted into a store. Every room has a theme; the dining room has entertainment books, the nursery has kid's books, romance books are upstairs in the ladies’ boudoir and so on. It used to belong to my stepfather back when it was just a house, or as my mom called it Chez Pile. Gigi and I inherited it from him. My husba...former husband, had been caught up in a scandal co-starring a nubile young intern and my ex's roaming hands, and I'd had enough big city nonsense to last me a lifetime. So, I'd left NYC, and a modest fiction writing career, for a quieter life. Gigi and I remodeled the place into a bookstore and Bloom's Books was born.
Then two murders happened. So much for peace and quiet. The murders had sent my mystery writing bug into overdrive and I had sort of gotten mixed up in things for a while. But Hydrangea Bay had since resorted back to its peaceful ways; the store was paying its bills, and even though I was just barely paying mine, things were falling into place. Gigi was married. Happily. Smart girl, marrying the right guy the first time.
Jenn seemed terribly excited about Nailing It! coming to town, "So, what's the deal, why the excitement?" I asked.
"Besides that they're the biggest web reality series ever? Oh, I don't know, the fact that they're going to need some extras for filming? 'Local color' I think they called it? Which could be me, me, meeeeee!" she fairly sang on her way out the door.
Great! Jenn wants to be Internet famous. I shook my head, if she only knew. The scary thing is, today any troglodyte could do it. Be famous. And rich. And some of them really are troglodytes. It was good to see her cheery and thinking about other things though. The murders had hit her hard, especially since she’d found one of the bodies. I watched with a smile as she skipped down the driveway to her car, relieved that she seemed to be recovering.
Gigi arrived shortly after with replenishments for the small café we ran out of what used to be the butler's pantry. Rather than taking up room in the small dining area, we stacked the bakery boxes in the café for the staff to take care of, and we retreated to what used to be a hidden prohibition room under the stairs. Since one of the bodies had been found there, we’d decided to turn it into our storeroom/office since probably no one would want to shop there in the very near future. I hadn’t even liked going in there at first, yuck! But it was getting a little bit easier.
Walking in, we sidestepped various piles of boxes and unused furniture we’d stashed here and there. We tried to switch some of it out now and then to use as decorations for each of our theme rooms, but we were still finding our “style” in how to decorate the store. Gigi had a real eye for small homey details, so she had taken the lead here. Lying around the room was a battered turquoise surfboard, the ever present Cape Cod lobster trap, and some small chairs that looked like cupped hands destined for the children's department. I couldn't decide if the cupped hand chairs were cool, or too creepy for a kids' department. And a chalkboard topped table that needed to be rehabbed. Which reminded me I needed to call Carter, our resident handyman, for help with the table and a few other things around my apartment upstairs. Carter and his handyman skills had saved us when we were re-modeling the bookstore before grand opening more times than I could count. He is the handy-i
st of handymen, and a genuinely nice guy.
We sat at either side of the long mahogany bar at the front of the room, me where the bartender would normally be if it were still a bar, and Gigi sat on the side where you would be served.
"What's up?" Gigi asked me.
I smothered my bagel with cream cheese and took a bite. Delish! "Eh, not much. Did you pass Jenn on your way in? She breezed in and out long enough to tell me about the web series that's coming to town."
Gigi took the other half of my bagel and put it back in the bag. "That's not for you, here have a hard-boiled egg, you're training, remember?"
"How can I forget? You've become the carb police. I need carbs to run."
"No one needs as many carbs as you eat. Have your egg," she said as she finished peeling it. "See, it’s all ready for you, I made it myself."
I sighed as I looked around behind the bar for some salt to put on the egg, "Okay fine, have it your way," I took a tiny bite. "Happy? Now tell me about the TV show thing."
"Oh man, she's been all about Nailing It! ever since they announced it. We heard all about it last night, the spots where you're most likely to be noticed by the casting people, likely local venues for shooting the series, the sign-up page online, and all the ways she could become a star!"
"Remember when we wanted to be on TV?"
"I think you wanted to write for TV, and I was going to be an actress. The good old days. Until we came to our senses."
"And filming starts next week?"
"Jenn is the expert, and that's what she told us."
"Well," I said, thinking aloud, "let's re-arrange the TV and movie section to highlight the series. And we'll do a display, up front by the register, of books about the show too."
"Are there books about the show?" Gigi asked me.
"Well, there are bound to be fan magazines at the very least," I said, pulling a yellow legal pad toward me and searching for a working pen from a drawer under the back of the bar. I began making a list of magazines I thought likely, and actors who had been featured on the show, and made a note to check with my distributors for any books that could be related.
"How about another display featuring locations? Places the show has filmed, maybe break it down by season? An endcap, say, with season 1 on the bottom, and the more recent seasons toward the top, with books about Hydrangea Bay on the top shelf?"
"Yes! Ohhh, I know! How about we dedicate one endcap to each location? I'll beef up our local history section with books by Hydrangea Bay authors," she was all smiles. Nothing like a couple of book nerds planning our next attempt to convert everyone we could into avid readers.
Lists complete, we made our way back out to the sales floor and split up the tasks, creating displays featuring the stars of Nailing It!, and featuring the themes of all the locations used previously in the show. It required quite a bit of Googling to figure out what was what, since I had never been a fan.
Later that afternoon we had most of our displays set, and Gigi left to find her daughter and husband and do something about dinner. I wandered the aisles beefing up the beach reads section for the season. It was almost summer and the crowds in town had been increasing a bit each week as people filtered to the Cape for vacations. It was the most important time of the year for the stores here, and everyone had taken the time to make their shops spiffy and well-stocked for the influx of tourists.
I heard them before I saw them, and somehow knew it was the Nailing It! crew. Maybe it was the demanding way they talked to my staff? I wasn’t sure, but by the time I’d made my way to the front entrance, I was positive that the TV crew had arrived.
And there they were, two young women, their clothing screamed 'trendy', obviously the designers, and a tall man with a mustache and wavy dark hair, who was standing between the two women. He had a hand on each of their backs, and he would lean down and whisper in the ear of the one on his right, then grin and whisper in the ear of the one on his left. One word went through my head at the sight of him, 'player'.
They were surrounded by a crew of mostly young people wearing jeans and bright red production company t-shirts with flip flops or sneakers. Some of them were carrying clipboards, and one had a video camera.
Oh, no, no, no, not today! I dashed forward to introduce myself and make sure there was no filming happening in Bloom's Books without my permission. Which they weren't going to get.
"Hi, I'm Ivy, welcome to Bloom's Books," I said as I rounded the corner and cut them off from exploring the rest of the store.
The tall guy stepped forward, removing his hands rather reluctantly from the backs of the two young women. "I'm Bruce," he said, "it's nice to meet you Ivy, you have a great place here."
"Thanks, no filming here today please. I mean I don't know if you were going to, but please don't." I finished lamely. Up close I could see that not only was he a player but he was handsome. And he smelled amazing. It was dizzying. Unfortunately, he knew it. The worst sort. If he thought he was going to flirt me into filming here he was wrong.
He seemed to have both the girls eating out of his hands.
"No, not at all, just scouting potential locations. If we decide to film here I'll ask you to sign some waivers. In the meantime we're just getting a taste of the local flavor. Mark" he indicated the camera guy with an imperious wave, "have a look-see and let me know what you think."
"I see, well thanks for that. We've put some endcaps and displays together based on your series." I said as I waved them over to the displays.
Bruce broke away from the crowd and followed me, "Oh God, don't let Heather see this one, she hates that picture of herself," he said, gathering up a handful of magazines with a perfectly lovely picture of the designer who was apparently named Heather.
He slid the armload of magazines onto a nearby coffee table and proceeded to undo every display we had just created, with remarks about Heather doesn't like this, and Angel can't stand that, and he didn't think this was the best representation of the show. He was like having locusts in the store. By the time he had torn everything apart, there was almost nothing left of all our hard work.
He clapped his hands together to remove imaginary dust and wiped them on his jeans dramatically, and turned to find his crew.
Seeing the horrified look on my face he said nonchalantly, "Nothing personal, it's my job to shepherd their brand. I'll email you some titles we approve of and you can put those out, okay?" He smiled at me and his dimples flashed but I was definitely not amused. Who did he think he was?
"Babe!" he called. Both women turned to look and I thought I saw something pass between them. Then it was gone and they were all smiles.
He ignored the awkwardness and returned to stand between them, his hands once again resting in a proprietary way on each of their backs.
Taking their cue from him the crew gathered together at the entrance and waited while he made his grand exit with the two designers.
"That was...weird," my head cashier said.
Right, weird. Somehow I felt that these guys were trouble and I didn't even know them yet. What were we in for now, I mused as I headed upstairs to my apartment to get some dinner.
Chapter 2
The sound of the alarm nearly knocked me out of bed. Without opening my eyes, I banged my hand on the side table trying to find the source of the clanging. Knowing I wouldn't get up unless the noise was horrific, I’d chosen the alarm on my phone that sounded like a firehouse siren. Not only was I awake but my heart had a head start on the aerobic exercise that awaited me.
Up and at 'em, training for the mini-relay triathlon. Don't ask me why, for the life of me I couldn’t remember. No, to be honest I needed the exercise, but mostly I had signed up because my niece Jenn had shamed me into it. She had already signed up for the biking part and conned her mother into swimming. Swimming wasn’t really a big deal for Gigi, her nickname had been 'the fish' ever since grade school. The running portion of the team was the only one left and Jenn had coerced me
into it. What could I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time. Raise money, get in shape, do something fun with my sister and my niece.
Somehow the actual running hadn't hit my radar as something I would loathe.
Those dark thoughts swirled in my head while I pulled on my shoes, shorts and running bra. Stumbling to the kitchen I flipped the switch on the blender full of ingredients I had prepared the night before. The machine whirred to life while I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and put on my tee-shirt. Slugging down the chalky drink I grabbed my water bottle and filled it with ice and water.
And why would I get ready to go when I could just roll over and go back to sleep? Right on cue there was a knock at my back door. The door that didn't lead to the store, but led outside instead. I opened it to find Drake Jordan lounging against my doorway, grinning at me.
"Good morning detective."
"That's coach to you. You ready to go?"
"Yep, just finishing up here" I said, grimacing, hoping my smoothie would have enough time to digest.
"Hey, some people pay good money for coaching like this. I saw those eyes rolling."
"I am paying for this coaching, just in abuse and not dollars" I said taking a few brief tentative stretches on the landing before I started down the stairs.
"How are you so chipper in the morning?" I asked.
"It annoys you, that makes it easier."
"I'll keep that in mind," I said gently testing my legs as we headed down the driveway.
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