BED, BREAKFAST, and BONES: A Ravenwood Cove Cozy Mystery

by Carolyn L. Dean

  “May I sit down?” he asked, his pleasant face expectant. Amanda’s fork hovered in mid-air, stacked with gooey icing. “Of course,” she said, gesturing to the wooden chair opposite her, and finally taking a bite of her treat.

  Amazing. Surely she’d burned enough calories working on the Inn that this wouldn’t go straight to her hips, would it?

  “Good, isn’t it? Ivy’s cakes are almost as good as Mrs. Mason’s, but don’t tell the town’s baker I said that.”

  Amanda nodded, trying to swallow quickly so she could answer him.

  “Nice to see you, Charles. Are you just out for lunch or did you want to talk more about my case?”

  “Just in town for some groceries, but I was thinking it was about time for us to meet up and talk about how things are going.” He flagged down the waitress and ordered some coffee. As soon as she left he dug through the tabletop caddy for a couple of sugar packets and three creamers. “Anything new with your situation that I should know about?”

  Amanda wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Not really. The town may be doing better, but I’m still stuck. No word on how Emmett wound up in my backyard, no zoning or license for my Inn to open, and I’m getting really tired of scraping paint for nothing.”

  He sat back, a mug of fresh coffee in his hand. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Truthfully, this whole thing may take months or years to get fixed.”

  “And there’s nothing we can do legally?” She tried to tamp down the edge of frustration in her voice, but could tell he heard it anyway.

  “I’m afraid not.” He caught her glancing at her watch, checking the time. “Late for something?”

  Amanda smiled, her cake temporarily forgotten. “I’ve got to eat and run, actually. Some people coming over in a bit to help move furniture and do some interior painting, so I need to head home pretty quick to meet them. If you stop by I’ll probably toss you a paintbrush and a pair of work gloves.”

  “Who’s coming by?” His voice was light, but his brown eyes were serious over the brim of his upturned mug as he took a sip.

  “Detective Landon, Roy and his crew, and Lisa.”

  “James Landon?”

  She nodded, surprised at his worried tone.

  Her lawyer leaned forward, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “If I were you, I’d be very careful of the company you keep, Amanda. James Landon has a history with women that precedes him everywhere, and people are already talking nonstop about you in this little town. Your reputation is tied to the reputation of the Inn, and maybe that sounds strange to someone from a big city, but that’s how it works here. If we’re able to get your business up and running, you’ll need all the good opinions you can get. Besides,” he leaned forward and dropped his voice—“you can’t be too careful these days.”

  “Careful of what?”

  “Well, we know that bad things, deadly things, have happened in this town in the past. I just want to be sure that you’re safe and that no one tries to take advantage of your situation.”

  “I appreciate that, Charles, I really do. I promise I’ll be careful.” She took another bite of her cake, and added, “If I can’t take her to court, I’m not sure what else I can do.”

  Charles grimaced in sympathy. “Nothing has been done that’s illegal, and I hate to admit it, but with the threat of potential lawsuits from Emmett’s heirs, you may want to consider some other options.”

  “What other options?” Her fork hovered in midair, forgotten.

  The look he gave her was sympathetic but the words were blunt. “I hate to tell you this, but as your lawyer I need to be factual. With everything you’ve told me, I don’t see how you’re going to be able to hold onto the Inn and make it a viable business.”

  Amanda felt like she’d been stabbed. She didn’t have many advocates, and to have her lawyer say she was going to fail hurt more than she’d admit.

  “What are you saying, Charles?”

  His soft brown eyes were kind, his eyebrows crinkled with concern. “I’m saying that you need to be practical and think about moving on.”

  “You mean by selling, don’t you?” She could feel her lips become a thin, hard line.

  “Yes, I do.” He sighed sympathetically. “Look, as your lawyer I feel I should advise you as to the perilous situation you’re in financially. I don’t see a way out of this, and you need to think about how to escape this mess in as good a shape as possible.”

  There was something about his sympathy that set Amanda’s teeth on edge. “And what do you recommend?”

  He leaned forward, his voice calm and low, and a hopeful smiling playing around his lips. “I’ve been approached by someone who is interested in buying the Inn from you, at a very good price.”

  “What?” Amanda’s eyes were wide with disbelief, but he continued.

  “It’s a solid all-cash offer that will set you up for years, and enable you to get on with your life, wherever you’d want to go. I think you should consider it.”

  Amanda had a momentary pang at the sudden thought of leaving Ravenwood Cove. She hadn’t had an easy time here, true, but she was starting to really love the small town. Maybe it was the way she’d been able to help somewhat, maybe it was some of the friends she was making, but whatever it was, the thought of leaving definitely hurt.

  “And they came to you so you’d present the offer to me? Who was it, anyway?” She had to ask, even though she had a very good idea who’d made the offer.

  “Due to attorney-client privilege, I am unable to disclose that information.”

  Her mouth actually fell open at Charles’ statement. “You can’t tell me who’s offering me cash to sell my inheritance and get outta town?”

  Charles shook his head emphatically. “I can’t. The offer would be made through a holding company so the party could remain anonymous. I can assure you, though,”—he continued quickly--“that the offer is extremely generous.”

  “So this mystery person or company is your client, too?”

  Charles nodded, waiting.

  There was the space of one heartbeat, then two, and Amanda finally said what was on her mind.

  “Charles, you’re fired.”

  It was Charles’ turn to look stunned, but Amanda was beyond caring. “For you to take them on as a client when you’re under retainer to me is a terrible breach of trust. I don’t want you as my lawyer anymore, Charles.”

  “Look, I can tell you’re upset, and we can talk later, Amanda. You can have some time to think about things,” he stammered quickly, but Amanda was done.

  “Time for you to go, Charles.” There was a soft chime of a cellphone and Charles answered the call. He nodded and said “okay” a couple of times, then hung up the phone.

  Setting down a five-dollar bill to pay for his coffee, he stood and pulled on his coat.

  “Charles, there’s just one more thing.” Amanda could feel the anger simmering just under the surface, and did her best to remain calm.

  “Yes?”

  “I want my dollar bill back.”

  Even though he seemed embarrassed and almost apologetic, he dug into his wallet again and pulled out a lone dollar, placing it gently on the tabletop.

  “I’m sorry, Amanda, I truly am, but I only want what’s best for you. Look, I need to be in my office for an important phone call in the next few minutes. I’ll touch base with you again in a couple of days to see how you’re doing, and we can talk again,” he said, wisely not shaking her hand before heading outside. Through the front window she saw him hurrying away down the street, under a darkening sky.

  Rainclouds coming.

  Chapter 19

  All the way home, her conversation with Charles rolled around in her mind. Someone had actually approached the only lawyer in town to make an anonymous offer to buy the Inn.

  If they’d been able to do that, they must’ve been able to pay a much bigger fee than she could, she was guessing. She thought about Charles’ returned dollar bill, crumpled up i
n her purse.

  Gonna burn it, she thought. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

  By the time she pulled into the circular driveway at the Inn, there was also a car parked there.

  A police car. A very familiar looking sheriff deputy’s car, to be exact.

  Amanda took a deep breath and popped the back hatch open, but as soon as she was out of the car and had taken three steps there was a very familiar figure standing by her rear bumper. She smiled and greeted James as he helped pull out the bags and flowerpots and paint cans that she’d bought.

  Well, almost bought. Mrs. Mason had sent the box of macadamia nut cookies over as a thank you and wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when Amanda tried to pay.

  “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  Amanda balanced the bakery box on one arm while she grabbed the last two grocery bags, and James clicked the hatch shut.

  “Yes, lots of errands today. An inn owner’s work is never done, you know. You’re early.”

  She glanced sideways at him, only to see him grinning broadly at her, his dark eyes glancing over her outfit with approval. She’d grabbed a simple dress and flat sandals when she’d left the house, perfect for a day that had started out warm and beautiful.

  James seemed to realize she had seen his reaction. “Nice to see a lady in a dress once in a while. Most of the girls around here just wear jeans all the time.”

  Maybe it was her encounter with Charles, maybe it was the appreciative way he was looking her over, or maybe it was the fact that she was standing next to this large man who was looking at her like….like she was a woman.

  All of those things made Amanda’s alarm bells go off.

  No more men, especially charming men with bad reputations. Even if they did have crisp dark hair and smell like leather and the outdoors.

  “Only thing I had that was clean today. I’m having some trouble with my washer.”

  He took the box of cookies from her while she unlocked the front door and pushed the heavy wooden door inward.

  “I can take a look at it for you. I’m pretty handy at fixing things. Something was always breaking or falling apart on the farm, and usually I was the lucky one who got assigned to repair detail.”

  “Farm?”

  “My folks have a good-sized horse ranch, about five minutes back toward Highway 101, past Likely. Great place to grow up. You ever ridden a horse before?”

  Amanda thought about all the years she’d spent in LA. She’d hardly ever seen a horse, and the thought of being on something that big kind of scared her.

  “Not really. Always thought I’d like to try it, though.” Perhaps it was a bit of a fib, but she wished it wasn’t.

  He smiled at her. “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

  There was a flash of movement and a dark orange blur of determined fur ran past Amanda into the kitchen. James looked up, surprised.

  “New friend?”

  She laughed and followed the huge cat, setting her bags down on the kitchen counter. It was apparent her furry guest had food on his mind when he started to purr and rub against her bare legs, looking up at her in sad appeal.

  “You figured out where the tuna is, didn’t ya?” she asked, reaching over to pet the new houseguest. Sighing in resignation, she got a bowl out of the cupboard and headed to the pantry.

  “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

  “I don’t. Well, I mean I didn’t. He kind of showed up here and I guess he decided to stay.”

  James leaned over and scratched the happy kitty under the chin. “He knows a softie when he sees one.”

  Tuna plopped in bowl, a full bowl on the floor by the door to the back porch, and Amanda’s happy cat was purring contentedly while gulping down the fish.

  “What’s his name? It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

  Amanda started putting away the groceries, juggling several cans at a time. “I’ve never looked and he’s never told me. Guess he doesn’t have a name yet.”

  James squinted at the cat, his fingers stroking his own chin in mock deep thought. “How about Oscar? Seems to fit him.”

  “Why Oscar?”

  “I had an Uncle Oscar once, and he was a man who always knew what he wanted, just like this little guy.”

  “Not so little. I’m gonna have to get some regular cat food or he’s gonna wipe out my stock of tuna.”

  James laughed, agreeing, and dug into one of the grocery bags. “I don’t know where anything goes,” he explained as he started pulling out the food and handing the cans and boxes to her.

  He was standing too close, his long frame leaning against the counter as he helped with the food. He’d obviously come dressed to work, wearing an old plaid flannel shirt and faded jeans, with a pair of tennis shoes that had certainly seen better days.

  Dressed to clean my place and still looks like he’s a model who stepped out of a Wrangler ad, she thought.

  Amanda tried to edge away and not look at the tall detective. Somehow just him being in her kitchen was making it feel smaller, almost as though he was dangerous somehow. It made her uncomfortable but she tried to hide it as she rolled the empty grocery bags together and stashed them in the pantry.

  “I’d appreciate any help you could give me with that washer. I really don’t want to use the laundromat in town.” Ages ago she’d had to use the laundromat in the basement of her condo building, and she had memories of a dimly-lit concrete block room with rolls of lint on the floor. After her underwear had mysteriously disappeared out of her unattended dryer she’d done her best to not go back.

  “I have some news for you. The final autopsy results came back about Emmett.”

  It almost felt as if the breath had been pushed out of her. Here it came.

  “What...what were the results?”

  James seemed almost apologetic. “No cause of death found.”

  “Are you sure? How can that be?” The edge in her voice was unintentional but she couldn’t help it.

  “Read it for yourself,” James said, and slid over a folded sheaf of papers he’d had tucked in his back pocket.

  Amanda frantically scanned the sheet. Emmet Johnson, age…birthplace…skeletal…

  The details were black and white, and there wasn’t much that she didn’t already know. The investigator had listed the boot tips and signet ring found with the body, the clear plastic that had wrapped around it, and the proprietary wrapping tape that had closed the plastic tightly. Amanda tried not to look at the digital photos that had been included in the packet of info. The only new item that Amanda discovered was that the investigator had found an unusual substance in the victim’s hair and mouth, listing it as wheat.

  She was having trouble reading the extensive technical notes that had been included. Too much medical and legal jargon.

  “What’s saponification?”

  James grimaced. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  She shuddered. “Okay, I’ll believe you on that one.”

  “Probably best,” he agreed. “Let’s change the subject. When do you want to get to work cleaning?”

  A loud knock on the front door startled Amanda a bit. She smiled at James, setting down the folded report on the kitchen island. “Perfect timing.”

  Perfect timing to not have to talk about bodies and plastic and reality. And, she admitted, perfect timing to not be alone with the handsome detective, James Landon.

  Oscar, newly-named and full of tuna, trotted alongside her as she opened the door. Lisa and Roy and two of Roy’s crew, John and Nathan, were standing there. Lisa’s eyes were instantly drawn to the huge cat.

  “New friend?”

  ***

  Amanda got changed into her work clothes, complete with a bandana to cover her hair and a protective dust mask, and went back to the kitchen to give her small crew instructions. They spent the rest of the afternoon moving furniture, taking down long curtains crusted with years of dust, and rolling up the oriental carpets so they could be moved ou
tside and the dirt beat out of them. The whole team moved room by room through the Inn, starting on the ground floor. Roy and James seemed to be doing most of the heavy lifting, but everyone pitched in where they could, and there was a lot of joking and laughter as they methodically cleaned everything.

  By the time they’d moved upstairs, Amanda headed back to the kitchen to make a fresh pitcher of lemonade and put some cookies on a tray. Oscar tagged along with her, following close by her heels wherever she went. As Amanda opened the freezer to get some ice she could hear the thumping and scraping sounds overhead. The crew was moving the antique bedroom furniture away from the walls and everything was being wiped down and vacuumed. No more dust bunnies, no more cobwebs. Even if she couldn’t open the Inn, just getting things clean and in order made her feel a bit better about things.

  And, if a miracle happened, she’d be as ready as possible for new guests.

  Balancing a tray with pitcher and pastries, she headed back up, Oscar right with her, rubbing against her ankles in a constant bid for attention.

  “Nothing on this tray for you, buddy,” she said, winking at the cat.

  He sat down at the top of the stairs, apparently unconcerned, and started licking his front paw.

  “Looks like I’ve got a new housemate.”

  ***

  Lisa and Roy teamed up, and the two crew members took over a different bedroom, while James and Amanda worked on a third. It was a lovely guest room, and Amanda was happy to open the French doors leading to the balcony, letting in the cool sea breeze. The ocean was dappled green and blue today, reflecting the sunlight shining through the few white clouds slowly rolling by.

  “Seems so peaceful up here,” she sighed. “Sometimes I forget just how much has happened recently in my life, or how many people want this Inn to fail.”

  James set down the walnut nightstand. “You mean the mayor.” It wasn’t a question.