Books, Brownies and Murder

by Lori Woods

  Books, Brownies and Murder

  A Story Tree Cozy Mystery Book 1

  Lori Woods

  Moonstone Press

  Copyright © 2018 by Lori Woods

  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.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Afterword

  Also by Lori Woods

  Introduction

  Everyone in Valley Springs knows that the brownies at Story Tree are to die for, so why are they so surprised when it turns out to be true?

  Clary St. James is content with her life in Valley Springs and her flourishing bookstore. She’s content, not bored. And if she keeps repeating that to herself, one day it might just be true. Everything changes one snowy afternoon when a handsome stranger takes up residence next door. Tall, dark, handsome, and arrogant, he rolls into town like he owns the place. Before she can complain too much, Valley Springs is rocked by an unexpected murder of a local man.

  All eyes turn to Clary’s bookstore cafe when it’s revealed that lethal brownies were the murder weapon. The once revered brownies become an object of suspicion, and Clary is forced to defend her talented chef and friend, Marie. It’s a race against the clock as the evidence keeps mounting, and secrets come to light.

  Death by Chocolate was supposed to be a marketing scheme, not a promise. Will Clary find the truth? Is her faith in her chef misplaced? And what’s happening next door?

  Chapter 1

  “Loki!” a soft voice called enticingly. “Come here, darling.” A young woman with deep red hair quietly made her way through the numerous bookshelves in her store. She held out a toy covered in catnip.

  “You look ridiculous,” an accented voice told her honestly.

  “Marie,” the young woman said with a sigh. “Are you a cat? No. I didn’t think so.”

  “I know about cats, they’re not dogs. He won’t come because you’re calling. Sit still, pretend you don’t care, and he will come.”

  A loud bang echoed from the neighboring building and the young woman frowned as excitable yells followed the noise. She took a deep breath and got down on her hands and knees. She was so short that when she bent down, her head barely cleared the bottom of the front window. She took the opportunity to squint outside the window, looking for any sign of her cat in the white flurry of snow outside.

  “This isn’t right,” Marie protested, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She turned and stoked the fire in the corner away from the room. Thankfully, it was the only corner in the building that wasn’t infested by a pile of books. When winter came around, she rightfully pointed out that fire, a pile of books and a clumsy Clary weren’t a good combination. Now neither books nor Clary were allowed in that particular corner.

  “Tell me about it,” she grumbled. “This is supposed to be a retreat from the noise and chaos of life. Those animals next door are wrecking my vibe.”

  “No,” Marie said slowly, “I’m talking about you. Where is your dignity? Get up.”

  “I want my cat!” she pouted. At that moment, her foot hooked the bottom of a pile of books, and they came crashing down. A customer immediately stood up, plonked down her coffee cup and walked out, shaking her head at the antics of the owner and her chef. It was worth noting that the customer preferred the icy wind instead of the warm store that smelled like rich coffee. “See what I mean?”

  “Clary St. James,” Marie stood up in annoyance, “clean that up.”

  “Marie…” Clary trailed off, scrunching up her nose as she tried to remember her employee’s surname, “Marie something, you work for me. You don’t get a free pass just because you’ve got that French accent.”

  “I get a free pass because I’m the best chef you’ve ever had,” Marie pointed out smugly. “I’m going to take my brownies out of the oven, because that’s my job. You’re going to pick up all your books, because that’s your job. And this place is a mess.”

  “It’s supposed to be disorganized,” Clary responded. “It’s a homey vibe.”

  “We’re going to get rats,” Marie said humorlessly.

  “We have a cat,” Clary shrugged, unfazed by Marie’s observation. A ding sounded from the kitchen, announcing that Marie’s brownies were ready.

  “Pick up the books,” Marie said uncompromisingly, “and clean yourself up. You’re scaring away customers.”

  “You’re not my mother,” Clary retorted. Marie snorted indelicately and disappeared into the kitchen. “I’ll pick up the books after a brownie,” she bargained, walking up to the glass display case that showed off all Marie’s hard work. She got onto one of the bar stools, using one of her feet to swing herself gently from side to side.

  “You’ll clean up now,” Marie told her severely, reappearing with a pile of prettily organized brownies. “then you’ll put something else on. You look like a homeless person.”

  “A hobo,” Clary corrected. She looked down at her ragged, loose jeans, scuffed sneakers and oversized fisherman-style jersey. “and I think I look fine.”

  “Your hair looks like a nest. No wonder the cat ran away. Where is your pride?”

  “Not everyone wants to look like a grandmother, you know,” Clary scowled, looking pointedly at Marie’s prim and proper attire.

  “You’re right,” Marie said with a smirk, “some want to look like a grandfather.”

  Clary was spared from having to reply when the door opened, ringing the bell that was directly above it. Both women straightened subconsciously and smiled in the direction of the oncoming customer.

  “Hi,” a man greeted. The women found that their replies were stuck in their throats. The man in front of them wasn’t a native of their small and closeted community. He radiated mystery, and it didn’t help that he was also one of the most beautiful people either of them had ever seen.

  “Bonjour,” Marie greeted flirtatiously. Clary rolled her eyes dismissively. Marie only spoke French when she felt like charming a person.

  “I’m told this is the best place in town to find a good cup of coffee,” he smiled, showing off a dimple on one of his cheeks. He shook his head slightly, trying to get rid of the few snowflakes that had gotten stuck in his hair. His nose was slightly red, indicating the temperature outside, and he held his hands up to his face to blow some warm air on them. Suddenly Clary wished that she didn’t look like a grandfather.

  “You’re correct,” Marie said proudly. “Welcome to the Story Tree, Mister…?”

  “Oh, no,” he chuckled. “Please call me Logan. I’m new in town.”

  “It’s always good to have fresh blood in town,” Marie smiled sweetly. “What made you decide to join us in Valley Springs?”

  “I’m opening a new store next door,” Logan gestured with his head.

  “Wait,” Clary stood up abruptly, finally finding her voice, “you’re the reason for that noise?”

  “Guilty,” Logan chuckled charmingly. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “You should be,” she seethed. “It’s a racket. What are you doing? Ripping out the foundation?”

  “Something like that,” Logan replied, looking vaguely amused.

  “It’s not funny,” she quipped angrily, “business has been slow all day.”

  “I won’
t be building for long,” Logan shrugged. “I’m sure people will come back soon. I’m sure they’re missing your,” he looked around in confusion, “cluttered café?”

  “It’s a book café,” Clary corrected testily. “people come here to escape, read a book and eat some of our delicious pastries.”

  “My delicious pastries,” Marie interjected, holding up the plate of brownies and smiling sweetly.

  “I pay your salary,” Clary reminded her with gritted teeth.

  “There won’t be money if you keep chasing away our handsome customers,” Marie pointed out, smiling apologetically at Logan.

  “We don’t have any handsome customers,” Clary said pointedly, glaring at Logan who raised his hands in surrender.

  “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute,” Logan promised, still looking amused. “I just need four cups of coffee. My construction foreman is starting to get testy, I’m hoping he’ll feel better after some coffee.”

  “Who’s is he?” Clary asked curiously. It was impossible to keep glaring at Logan. He had a likable air about him. It annoyed her endlessly, she had just met him, but she was sure that it was going to annoy her forever.

  “Eddie Jones,” Logan answered. He leaned against the counter, inclining his head to her as he spoke. Marie quickly started making coffees, giving Clary a look that screamed “behave!”

  “He’s always angry,” Clary shrugged. “I’m sure it’s worse because you’re making him work in this cold.”

  “How was I supposed to know it would be snowing?” Logan shrugged. “I pay for work, and he wants the money.”

  “Who opens a store this time of year?” Clary asked incredulously. “It’s nearly time to close for the holidays, and people aren’t all that patient right now. Shouldn’t you have done this much sooner?”

  “You’re nosy,” Logan told her, picking up one of the brownies and nibbling at the edge.

  “She is,” Marie agreed, “but she’s also right. Eddie is an angry man. You’re going to have lots of problems with him. Coffee won’t be enough, why don’t you buy some of our brownies?”

  “It sounds like you’ve got a history with the guy,” he observed, “but you’re right. Brownies might hit the spot. Thank you.”

  “They do have a history,” Clary shrugged. “Eddie has a history with everyone in town.”

  “Romantic history?” he asked mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows at Marie who frowned at him.

  “Who’s being nosy now?” Clary asked triumphantly.

  “Still you,” he said with a teasing smile.

  “Here you go,” Marie interjected quickly as Clary opened her mouth to retort. “Don’t forget your brownies.”

  “Thanks,” he smiled and placed the money on the counter before nodding at both women. “It was nice to meet you two. I’ll be back.”

  “Please don’t,” Clary grumbled.

  “Whatever you say, Nosy.” Clary’s mouth dropped open and her cheeks went bright red. Logan smirked at her reaction as he walked out, carefully balancing the tray of coffees and box of brownies.

  “What a jerk,” Clary muttered, picking up a brownie.

  “No,” Marie slapped her hand sharply and gestured toward the toppled pile of books. Clary glared at her but put down the brownie and began picking up the books. When she was done, she fell back onto one of the various couches placed around the store.

  “Are you happy now?” she asked petulantly.

  “You act like a child sometimes,” Marie shook her head.

  “I don’t,” Clary protested. “I’m very mature for my age.”

  “You’re nearly thirty,” Marie responded, “but you pout like a toddler.”

  “Hey, guys,” a tall brunette woman greeted as she pushed the door open.

  “Hello, Ronnie,” Marie greeted pleasantly. Ronnie was a regular around lunchtime. She lived out on a plot of land outside of town with her family. Ronnie was a beautiful woman, but there was an air of sadness around her. Like so many before her, Ronnie was willowy, stunning, and intelligent. Instead of going to college, she decided to stay behind in the little town and look after her parents.

  She was at the top of her class in school, but her parents didn’t have enough money to send her to college. She also didn’t have enough courage to take out a hefty student loan. Now, she worked full-time as a dental assistant while she studied through the mail.

  “Hi,” Clary greeted absently. Ronnie was a nice, if unremarkable, girl. Clary only raised her head to greet people she found interesting.

  “So,” Ronnie drawled, “what’s new?”

  A bunch of voices were raised from next door and Marie turned her head curiously but shook her head dismissively. The shouts died down, and she focused on Ronnie again.

  “We have the usual,” Marie gestured to the wall above her where the specials were written in chalk against the black paint. “And these brownies are fresh.”

  “You know I love brownies,” Ronnie said wistfully, “but Finn would have a heart attack if I brought brownies into his waiting room.”

  “He’s a dentist,” Marie shrugged when it became apparent that Ronnie was waiting for a response.

  “And yet he buys more brownies than anyone else,” Clary commented in amusement. It was at that moment that a sleek black cat jumped onto the couch and stretched casually. “Loki!” Clary breathed excitedly. She froze as the cat blinked at her. He tilted his head slightly as if he was deliberating about what to do next. She lifted her hand and scratched the back of his ears lightly. That action made up his mind and he took his place on her lap, purring slightly.

  “See?” Marie said triumphantly. “I told you. Just focus on something else and he’ll come looking for attention. You’re like your cat.”

  “That’s not true,” Clary protested half-heartedly. She was cut off by yet another shout from next door. The women paused in annoyance, but this time the shouting didn’t die down.

  “What’s going on next door?” Ronnie asked curiously, eyeing the wall between the stores. “I swear the noise is getting worse.”

  “They probably broke something,” Clary scoffed, rolling her eyes at the commotion. Loki didn’t like the noise and immediately got up again.

  “Spoiled cat,” Marie shook her head.

  “He isn’t spoiled,” Clary sniffed. “He’s privileged.”

  “What is going on?” Marie asked in annoyance when the shouting continued. They were starting to get used to the sound of workmen next door, but it had never been so prolonged and annoying before.

  “I don’t know,” Clary admitted, frowning in concern. It didn’t sound like workmen bantering anymore, this was a little more urgent. “Maybe something went wrong. Do you think we should go next door?”

  “The front door is locked,” Marie reminded her. The moment the work had started, Clary had marched over to see what was going on, but the front door was locked, preventing her from making her presence known. Ronnie looked between the two of them, before eyeing the specials wall hungrily. There seemed little chance of getting a decent lunch now.

  “I think Logan will let us in,” Clary reasoned. She got up from her spot but hesitated when she saw that the weather had worsened. She was curious, but it was cold outside. The yelling started again, this time it held a panicked edge that caused Marie and Clary to exchange wide-eyed looks.

  “Something’s wrong,” Marie breathed. Clary quickly put her coat on and Marie followed her not long after, with Ronnie trailing behind curiously.

  The cold hit them like a wall, and Clary had to keep her teeth from chattering together. Marie shook her head and pulled her coat closer to her body, muttering to herself in French.

  The shop was right next to the Story Tree, but the sidewalk was frozen, and neither woman was prepared for a trek through the snow. As soon as Clary tried to speed up her pace, her foot slipped on the ice and she had to grab hold of Marie to steady herself. Marie looked down at her and scowled but didn’t say anything.
Instead, she used the opportunity to lean on Clary for support too. Ronnie lagged behind, feeling too uncomfortable to ask for support.

  They just made it to the source of the terrifying yells when the ambulance’s siren split through the air and raced up to the store.

  Chapter 2

  “Do we have any news yet?” Clary asked anxiously, pacing up and down in front of the counter. The day before, the ambulance had raced up to Logan’s new shop and promptly picked up Eddie, the manager, who looked like he was having a seizure of some kind, before disappearing again.

  They hadn’t been allowed to see him at the hospital, and Marie had insisted that they go home once Eddie’s family started arriving. Clary still felt guilty about leaving, and Logan’s horrified expression was burned into the back of her mind. The entire incident was troubling, and Clary felt that they should be doing something about it.

  “Where would I get news?” Marie asked testily. “I don’t know him.”

  “You two were close once,” Clary said defensively, holding up her hands in surrender. Valley Springs was a tiny town, with a limited number of young people. Marie was mostly young, and she was a very beautiful woman. She had thick blonde hair and an aristocratic face. Her looks were advantageous, but even if she looked like a duck, most men in town would still be drawn to her exotic accent. Valley Springs didn’t have a lot of foreign visitors.

  “Clary,” Marie sighed, “the man is close with everyone in town. I spoke to him months ago, I don’t have any contact with him. You should ask his new girlfriend, I think she works in the dentist’s office.”

  The mention of the local dentist drew the attention of one of their customers, a pretty, if slightly chubby woman in her late thirties. She walked up to the counter, surprising Clary and Marie, since she was a quiet, unobtrusive woman who usually didn’t talk much.