by Lynn Cahoon
I reached for the last slice of cheesecake, but Aunt Jackie slapped my hand, moving the plate off the table and onto the coffee counter. I refilled my coffee cup instead and sat back to listen to Darla’s report.
“We’re all set for next Saturday’s run. The greenbelt has been measured, and we’ve got parking set up for the start and finish lines. Greg hired off-duty police officers from Bakerstown to help with patrols that day. The only thing I need is a small group to walk the distance on Friday so we can make sure there aren’t any surprises Saturday morning.” She glanced around the table. “Who’s going to volunteer?”
The room went quiet. I raised my hand. “You know Greg and I will be there, just name the time.”
“Thanks. I’d like to do the run-through at five p.m. sharp. That way we’ll know how long it will take our slower walkers so we don’t leave anyone on the trail.” Darla wrote down our names in her notebook. “Who else?”
“Josh and I will be there.” Aunt Jackie stood to take the coffee carafe back for a refill.
“Jackie, you know I don’t …” Whatever Josh had been going to say was blocked by the scorching look my aunt gave him. Sure, now he shut up.
“Perfect. Matt and I will start timing you at the start line and then we’ll drive to the finish line to wait for you.” Darla focused on me. “Do you want to ask Amy if she and Justin would join, too? I’d like some runners to see how quickly people can get through.”
I held back my retort about me being chopped liver and nodded. Besides, if Amy and Justin ran, I could bring Emma, and Greg and I could have some quality time before the craziness of the weekend hit. We hadn’t had much couple time lately between the shop and his annual training requirements for the local police department.
Yes, my boyfriend was the local detective for South Cove. Greg King had just returned to the area when my friend, Miss Emily, had been murdered. While he investigated her death, we’d started spending time together. I think he just wanted to keep his prime suspect close. He tells a different story. No matter what the truth had been, we’ve been a couple for over a year now. And we rarely, if ever, fought. Unless he thought I was messing with one of his investigations.
As Darla wrapped up the list of assignments for Saturday’s run, the committee members filled their to-go cups with more free coffee and squirmed in their seats, ready for the meeting to end. Fortunately, Darla was enough of a bulldog that she’d filled the final few volunteer spots before she’d turned control of the meeting back to Bill.
“And that’s everything.” Bill closed the South Cove notebook cover where he kept the meeting notes. Mary, his wife and a marketing maven, hadn’t attended the meeting, but she’d been working with Darla this last month to analyze the effect of the run on the city’s business community. The couple’s bed-and-breakfast business had been booked solid for the last week with runners preparing for the event. He waved as he left the shop. “See you all Saturday.”
“As usual, they leave all the cleanup for the meeting to us,” Aunt Jackie grumbled as she started moving tables back to their normal places scattered around the shop.
Josh inched toward the door. “Sorry, I have to open in ten minutes. Otherwise …”
We watched as Josh lumbered through the door, his next words lost to the wind. He scurried as fast as his close-to-four-hundred-pound frame would allow toward his shop next door.
“I’m shocked, I tell you, shocked.” Darla laughed as she placed chairs around a table my aunt had just moved. “Seems that Josh always has an excuse when there’s actual work to be done. I don’t think the guy has moved a box since Kyle started working for him.”
“Being catty doesn’t suit you, dear,” my aunt chided Darla, her tone gentle. If I’d said that I would have gotten a lecture about being generous in spirit in my words. Darla just got a verbal tap on the hand.
My thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and a man and woman entered. To refer to the pair as Ken and Barbie would be too generous to the dolls. Both of the new arrivals were actor-level beautiful. We had tourist traffic that came up from Hollywood at times, but typically they came later in the day and dressed in clothes a bit more casual (but just as expensive).
“I told you we were going to be late, Michael.” The woman tossed back her blond hair with caramel highlights as she watched us moving the tables.
He sighed. “We would have been on time if you hadn’t had to call your stylist about what outfit would be appropriate for a business meeting.”
The woman smoothed down the blue jacket that hugged her curves. “Blame me for wanting to make a good first impression.” She turned toward me and flashed a hundred-watt smile. “Forgive our bickering. I’m Sandra Ashford and this is my husband, Michael. We’re the owners of Promote Your Event. We’ve been hired by the Mission Society to assist with their fund-raising events. We’re checking in to see if you all are ready for the walk on Saturday.”
“I’m Jill Gardner. I own the land where the South Cove Mission was found.” I held my hands up and glanced around the room. “As well as this coffee shop/bookstore. We’ve committed to be one of the sponsors for the event.”
“Lovely.” Sandra’s gaze covered the shop’s dining area and book department in less time than it took to read a road sign. A look of disgust flashed on her face for a second, her lip twitching like the smell was Stockyard Drip instead of Vanilla Bean Delight. Then her plastic veneer went back up, and I almost thought I’d imagined the negative assessment. Until she spoke her next words. “I guess it will have to do.”
Darla stepped next to me and held out her hand. “Darla Taylor, South Cove Winery, and Examiner lead reporter.” She grinned at me before adding, “And South Cove Mission Walk chairman. I’m so glad you took time out of your busy schedule for us. Come sit, I’ve got the event plan right here. I’d love to have you go over it to make sure I’m not missing anything.”
Michael stepped forward and shook Darla’s hand. “I’m sure it’s grand. You know, these events never could get off the ground without the tireless effort of volunteers like you.”
As Darla stepped toward a clean table, I heard a sigh come from Sandra’s direction. “I swear, if I have to do any more of these one-horse-town events, I’m going to scream.”
Michael grabbed her elbow and leaned closer. “Be nice. Or pretend to be nice. I know it’s hard to act like something you’re not.” The couple followed Darla, and as I watched, Sandra shook off her husband’s grip.
Those two have issues. I knew what it was like to be in a marriage that wasn’t working. Between my law practice and my own failed relationships, I’d had plenty of examples. The Ashfords were definitely dysfunctional and on their way to a nuclear blowup. I just hoped they’d get through Saturday. The Mission Walk was too important to be collateral damage from a couple’s disintegration. I stood by the table as they sat on both sides of Darla.
“Before we get started, can I bring you coffee? A carafe? Or something more decadent, like a cinnamon roll and a hot chocolate?”
“Bottled water.” Sandra didn’t even look up from digging in her leather tote.
“I’m good.” Darla waved me to a chair. “Sit down and help me present our plan.”
Michael turned toward me. “That cinnamon roll sounds amazing. Can you heat it with a little butter? And coffee, cream and sugar.”
Sandra snorted. “No wonder you didn’t want to go to the gym today. You were planning on blowing your diet.”
“I’m not on a diet.” Michael smiled up at me. “But I should have accompanied my wife to the gym. Sometimes you just want that extra sleep.”
And time away from a witch from hell. I started to walk to the counter, but my aunt waved me away. “I can handle this. Just sit down.”
By all rights, Aunt Jackie should have been the one involved in the discussion. She had a knack for marketing. I had just muddled through before she’d come to help me with the shop. I slipped into the last chair at the table an
d accepted a folder from Darla.
Listening to the plans and schedule, I knew that Darla had been the right choice to set this event up. She had thought of everything. As I looked through the maps, sign-up sheets, and lists of South Cove businesses she’d gotten donations from, I was impressed.
Aunt Jackie set a glass of orange juice in front of me and looked over my shoulder, pointing to an item on the list. “I didn’t think Lille would be participating. That woman’s always griping about giving away her profits.”
Darla laughed. “When I told her you were sponsoring all the water stations and providing CBM cups, she decided she needed to do something. So she’s hosting a small celebration circle at the end of the walk. Burgers and fries.”
“Just what a health-conscious runner wants at the end of an exercise event. Sometimes I think the woman is clueless.” Sandra snorted.
Michael dug into his cinnamon roll, holding his fork up to show his wife. “There’s more to life than just health food.”
“I hope you choke.” Her response sent a chill through me.
Angela Brewer Armstrong at Todd Studios
USA Today and New York Times best-selling author, Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho native. If you’d visit the town where she grew up, you’d understand why her mysteries and romance novels focus around the depth and experience of small town life. Currently, she’s living in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. She lives with her husband and two fur babies.
Guidebook to Murder
When Jill Gardner’s elderly friend, Miss Emily, calls in a fit of pique, she already knows the city council is trying to force Emily to sell her dilapidated old house. But Emily’s gumption goes for naught when she dies unexpectedly and leaves the house to Jill—along with all of her problems … and her enemies. Convinced her friend was murdered, Jill is finding the list of suspects longer than the list of repairs needed on the house. But Jill is determined to uncover the culprit—especially if it gets her closer to South Cove’s finest, Detective Greg King. Problem is, the killer knows she’s on the case—and is determined to close the book on Jill permanently …
Mission to Murder
Jill Gardner, proprietor of Coffee, Books, and More, has discovered that the old stone wall on her property might be a centuries-old mission worthy of being declared a landmark. But Craig Morgan, the obnoxious owner of South Cove’s most popular tourist spot, The Castle, makes it his business to contest her claim. When Morgan is found murdered at The Castle shortly after a heated argument with Jill, even her detective boyfriend has to ask her for an alibi. Jill decides she must find the real murderer to clear her name. But when the killer comes for her, she’ll need to jump from historic preservation to self-preservation …
If the Shoe Kills
As owner of Coffee, Books, and More, Jill Gardner looks forward to the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers. But when the mayor ropes her into being liaison for a new work program, ’tis the season to be wary. Local businesses are afraid the interns will be delinquents, punks, or worse. For Jill, nothing’s worse than Ted Hendricks—the jerk who runs the program. After a few run-ins, Jill’s ready to kill the guy. That, however, turns out to be unnecessary when she finds Ted in his car—dead as a doornail. Detective Greg King assumes it’s a suicide. Jill thinks it’s murder. And if the holidays weren’t stressful enough, a spoiled blonde wants to sue the city for breaking her heel. Jill has to act fast to solve this mess—before the other shoe drops …
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Lynn Cahoon
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Lyrical and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: June 2015
ISBN: 978-1-6018-3415-7
ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-416-4
ISBN-10: 1-60183-416-0
