Murder Down Under_[AN_Darcy Sweet]
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Sneak Peek Pine Lake Inn Cozy Mystery Series
I think what I like most about Lakeshore, is how peaceful it is.
A sleepy little community in the middle of Tasmania, settled among the pines, nestled at the edge of three lakes that feed into each other and help keep the climate mild and cool. The breeze off those lakes is right nice. I like the way it smells. It reminds me of my childhood, as a little girl growing up in Sydney, with the ocean at my doorstep. These lakes here aren’t the ocean, but they’re aces just the same.
We’ve got fine folks who live here, too. Make a living off the tourists who come to spend some time here. Get people in from all over the world. Even as far away as America and Canada. Nice to meet new friends. ‘Course, I run the only Inn here in town. The Pine Lake Inn. Put it right on the water. Open year round. A quiet place, in a quiet town.
Until something happens.
Today started like any other day for me and Rosie. She’d cooked up some amazing Jumbuck stew to serve the guests for lunch. Rosie’s good that way. That’s why she runs the kitchen side of the Inn and I run the business side. Ever since University, it’s been our dream to own our own Inn. Now we do. Doing a good bit of business for ourselves, too. That’s saying something in this economy.
So life was going on as usual, with the lunch made and the reservations set for the next few days, and George the handyman even managing to fix that leaky faucet in room 204. The Pine Lake Inn’s got three floors, two for guest rooms and then the bottom floor for the dining room and the commons area. We have rooms for fifteen boarders, then there’s my room at the end of the third floor. One of the perks of being the owner.
Rosie’s got her own place in town. She and that husband of hers need the privacy. Trying to make a family, they are. Not something that happens overnight.
“I’m telling you,” Rosie was saying to me, “it’s not for lack of trying. Poor Kingston. I wear the poor man out almost every night.”
“Rosie!” I laugh, hooking a strand of my long hair behind my ear, feeling my cheeks heat up even though we’ve had this talk more than once. That’s how close we are. Best friends forever, is how the kids say it nowadays. ‘Course, I haven’t been a kid for a while now. Can’t hardly see twenty in the rearview, as they say. Forty-three was the birthday I celebrated last. Been a good life so far. Had my ups and downs, but then doesn’t everyone?
We’re setting tables in the dining room. Lunch hasn’t started yet. We begin serving guests at eleven o’clock for lunch, and it’s only half past ten now. Rosie is always happy to make something for the guests at any hour, but the brochure says eleven so most people don’t come down from their rooms till close to that time. Gives me and her a little time to ourselves to talk about the state of affairs in Australia in general and our own lives, too.
“You think maybe my Mister would be more into it if I lost me a few pounds?” Rosie asks me. She stands up straight in her dark slacks and her short white chef’s coat, and runs her hands down her plump form.
I think Rosie looks just fine the way she is. She’s a real woman, not one of those airbrushed models in the mags. She’s the same age I am, with to-die-for brown eyes and hair to match, an oval face with a cute little mouth and a beauty mark on her left cheek. Any man hereabouts would be lucky to have her as a wife. She’s always smiling and happy. I know for a fact that her Kingston can’t get enough of her.
Kind of like my ex-husband had been with me.
Clearing my throat to disperse sad memories, I wink at Rosie. “Your aces, Rosie. Men have fought wars over women like you. I wouldn’t worry about making your Mister be more interested in you. Just show up tonight with a bottle of ale. Clothes optional.”
“Oh, go on with ya.” It was Rosie’s turn to twitter with laughter, and I could hear her humming away as we worked after that.
The kitchen is just off the main foyer, where the registration desk stands with the phone and computer and sign-in book. The phone starts ringing just as we finish setting plates out on the last table. They’re the new ones I bought with the floral pattern to match the wallpaper. They look great, I think, but for now I’m sure Rosie can handle the rest of the setting up. I step out to the desk to answer the phone.
“If that’s our ghost, tell him I say hello!” Rosie calls after me.
The “ghost” is our running joke. Sometimes the phone rings and there’s no one there. Things like that happen. Had us a guest a few months back, though, who thought maybe it was something more. Miss Darcy Sweet sure did stir up an interesting time in our sleepy little town, but now things were back to normal, and a phone was just a phone.
I pick up the gray receiver on the sixth ring, just before it would have went to voicemail. “G’day, Pine Lake Inn. How can I help you?”
There was a short pause before the person on the other end of the line said anything. “Dell? Is that you? It’s me, Jessica.”
I remember that voice. “Jessica? Jessica Sapp? Lord have mercy, I sure wasn’t expecting to hear from you. How are you?”
“Starving, actually. It’s a bugger of a long drive from Hobart. Am I even on the right road?”
Was she even on the right…? Oh! “Are you coming here?”
“Sure am. In fact, I’m only thirty minutes away from ya. I think. GPS is on the fritz. I got off at Geeveston onto Huon but this is a blooming donkey path!”
I laugh at her. “That’s the road. Only one in. Follow it in. The streets in town are paved. Where are you staying?”
Her voice turned to static for a moment before it cleared again. “…not like the old days. Don’t know as many blokes there in town like I used to.”
“Are you on your mobile while you’re talking? Pull over, dear. You keep dropping out.”
“Now, Dell, I’d never do something illegal. This is me.”
I could hear the smile in her voice. Back in university with me and Rosie, Jessica was always a bit of a hellraiser. She’d gotten suspended from the dorms at one point. Had every guy chasing after her, too. Nobody’d ever accuse her of being a straight arrow. “Don’t give it a thought, Jess. You’ll stay here. We’ve got a few empty rooms. My treat.”
“Dell, I couldn’t…”
The line went static again, and I waited.
In the static I was sure I heard a man’s voice, whispering something, but I couldn’t make out what.
“Ya there?” Jess asked, suddenly loud and clear.
“Sure am. You have someone with you?”
“No, just me. Why?”
Huh. “Sorry, musta been the white noise. Your call dropped for a bit.”
“I was saying I couldn’t let ya give me a room without paying. Won’t hear of it. I’ve got me enough quid packed away to choke a horse. Book me a room, but I’ll be paying my bill.”
I roll my eyes. There was no arguing with Jess when her mind was made up. Once she set her heart on something, she made a straight line for it and never turned left or right. “Okay, Jess. We’ll set you up in a room. Come straight here when you’re in. All right?”
Once I gave her the directions, we said our goodbyes and hung up. Excitement mixed with other emotions inside of my brain. It had been years since me and Jess had seen each other, and I knew I’d changed. A lot can happen to people in a lifetime. She sounded like she’d been successful, insisting on paying for the room, talking about how much money she had, and all that. Jess had always landed on her feet no matter how much tr
ouble she got into.
Then there was me, and Rosie, and our Inn. Looking around me now, I see the dark wood paneling and the hardwood floors, the handwoven throw rugs, the little fireplace over in the corner. I see the pictures framed on the walls showing beautiful scenes of the area around Lakeshore, or landmarks from all over Australia like Sydney’s Opera House and the Uluru monolith. Every wall has something to show, except for that one space where nothing will hang. Ever.
I can’t see the commons area from here, but I have it memorized by heart. Tall windows, a warm and inviting space filled with overstuffed chairs and a television and books and games for guests to play. The dining room and kitchens are on the other side of the bottom floor. Above me are the guest rooms, each one unique and tidy and perfect.
This is my Inn. Mine, and Rosie’s. I may not be wildly successful and rich, but I’m proud of the place. We created something special here. No reason to be disappointed in this place.
Maybe it was myself I was disappointed in, I thought, not realizing I was feeling that little bit of jealousy until I’d heard my own thoughts. There’s a mirror over on the wall, left of the entrance to the commons area. It’s an ornate thing with a crafted frame. In its reflection, I see my face.
It’s not an old face, no matter how old I feel some days. The freckles across the bridge of my nose and my cheeks will always keep me looking young. So does the deep auburn hair that spills down over my shoulders. The purple top I wear is tight in all the right places, and my wide black belt accentuates slim hips and a stomach I have to work to keep flat, nowadays. I’ve heard my body compared to a twenty-year old’s, and I’ll take that compliment. My husband used to tell me that, and other things too, in the middle of the night…
Ahem. Hubby’s gone now, of course. Gone a poof to points unknown. Gone four years last week, as a matter of fact. On my birthday. Never came back. Got one of those uncontested divorces for Christmas last year, and what else could I do? Sad as that makes me, I remember the good times with him, and I move on.
One of my clear green eyes winks back at me. “Don’t matter what other people think. You’re beautiful, Adelle Powers. Simply beautiful.”
Finally, I smile, knowing that I’m being foolish anyway. Jessica is a friend. No matter how successful she’s become, she wouldn’t hold it against me even if I was broke and ugly. Which I’m not. So.
Whistling a tune, I head back into the kitchen to let Rosie know that Jess is coming. She’ll be happy to hear it, if for no other reason than it means one more meal to prepare in her kitchen.
On the way to the kitchen a shadow passes down the stairs. Shadows don’t usually move. Stopping quick enough that my black sneakers squeak against the floorboards, I turn, and see the shadow standing still, watching me.
Glossary of Australian Slang
Back of Bourke - a very long way away.
In a Jiff - in a minute, very soon.
Vaca - pronounced vay-kay - vacation, holiday.
Stellar - outstanding.
Senior Sergeant - ranking officer in the Australian police force.
Roos - Kangaroos
Keen - very interested/interesting.
Real Crank - a crazy person.
Favs – favourites.
A few clicks - a few kilometres(miles).
Mobile phone - cell phone.
Strewth - exclamation, mild oath.
Nipper – child.
Right as rain - satisfactory, comfortable, well.
Bonza - most excellent, cool, great etc.
Spiffy - great, excellent.
Fair dinkum - true, genuine.
Dipstick - a loser, idiot.
Fossick - search, rummage.
Good oil - useful information, a good idea, the truth.
Old biddy - old woman.
Bloke – man.
Noggin – head.
Too right – definitely.
Got crook - was ill.
A goner - person or thing that is dead, lost, or past recovery or rescue.
Drongo – idiot.
Down in the dumps - sad, unhappy.
Pav - Pavlova - a dessert consisting of a meringue base or shell filled with whipped cream and fruit.
The Sarge - nickname for Sergeant.
Brekkie – breakfast.
Spit the Dummy - a sudden display of anger or frustration; to lose one's temper.
Give you a ring - Call on the telephone.
Back of beyond - a remote place.
Delish – delicious.
Deadset - true, the truth.
Fella – man.
Pull the wool over someone's eyes - to deceive someone.
Bugger - used as a term of abuse, especially for a man or used to express annoyance or anger.
Bunyip - the bunyip, or kianpraty, is a large mythical creature from Aboriginal mythology, said to lurk in swamps, billabongs, creeks, riverbeds, and waterholes.
Drop bear - a dropbear or drop bear is a fictitious Australian marsupial.
To string along - to keep someone waiting or in a state of uncertainty.
Bonkers - crazy.
Sheila – a woman.
Ratbag - trouble maker or someone causing havok.
Bugger off - go away, leave a person alone.
About the Author
Strongly influenced by authors like James Patterson, Dick Francis, and Nora Roberts, Kathrine Emrick is an up and coming talent in the writing world. She is a Kindle author/publisher and brings a variety of experiences and observations to her writing.
Based in Australia, Kathrine has wanted to be an author for the majority of her life and can always be found jotting down daily notes in a journal. Like many authors, she loves to be surrounded by books and is a voracious reader.
In her spare time, she enjoys spending time with her family and volunteering at the local library.
Her goal is to become a bestselling author, regularly producing noteworthy content and engaging in a community of readers and writers.
To find out more please visit the Kathrine's website at kathrineemrick.com or her Amazon author page.
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