Scrambled to Death: A Sage and Dash Cozy Mystery

by Molly Dox

  “Hey, can I stop by tonight? Are you doing anything?”

  “Yeah, sure, come by after work. I need to run. Mom and I are heading to Patterson’s for breakfast. Let’s hope we survive the meal,” she said with a wink.

  “Don’t even joke like that!” Alyssa said, and then settled onto a stool behind the post office counter.

  “Okay, I’ll see you later,” Rosie said with a wave, and then headed back home.

  Dora and Christopher, they were a story in and of themselves. Word was that things got ugly at the local gas station and convenience store. Harley's Gas and Go sat in the center of town. If they been in a shouting match, plenty of people would have seen it. And what was Dora doing back in town anyway? After they split up, she moved over to Sugar Hollow until things settled. It seemed the woman needed to get in his face on a regular basis. She was still angry over the fact that she was duped when they first got hitched.

  She’d met him at the casinos and thought he was a big roller. A fancy lawyer, he called himself, from over yonder. Well, she got suckered in, they got married in a quickie ceremony, and she was ready to live the good life. She thought her gold-digging ways paid off and that she’d landed a big one. Only, when it came out he was an average lawyer in a tiny town, and wasn't as wealthy as he'd led her to believe, she felt snookered. Regardless, she gave things a chance, but the lifestyle she was expected to live was hardly enough for her. Dora was a diva ready to live in the lap of luxury, and instead she was stuck in a doo-hickey town with nothing to do.

  Dora Banks wasn't meant for small town life. There was nobody local to take care of her roots, and her platinum blonde hair was showing brass. She pictured a wardrobe of designer gowns and handbags, and what she got was no-name brand knock-offs at the local box store. Christopher Banks played her good. He won arm candy, a trophy wife, and all she won was a one-way ticket to a sleepy little town.

  Chapter 6

  Libby was good and ready to head over to Patterson’s. While keeping the restaurant closed hurt business, the rare day off was nice. Sunday was their only official day off. It’s not that they closed, but Betsy Beamer of the Coffee Bean came in and did a nice brunch, which gave them a break. In return, Libby filled in at the Coffee Bean from time to time to allow Betsy to run errands.

  Libby and John had just started dating. Well, if you could call it that. They’d been out once or twice on the down-low, but she wasn’t committing to anything yet. Besides, she knew Owen Masters was sweet on her, and it never hurt to have a retired police officer in your back pocket. Libby liked to keep her options open, though it’s not like there were many options in this part of town. Regardless, she knew John Patterson was a showy man, so she mentioned him on Facebook to keep him happy.

  When Rosie returned from the post office, Libby was practically out the door to greet her. Together, they locked up and then went to Patterson’s for breakfast. Amazingly, the man shut down for nothing. He was open in blizzards, on holidays, and apparently even after a guy died in his restaurant. Rosie didn’t want to risk anybody else getting hurt. Until she knew what caused the man’s death, she refused to take a chance and kept her doors closed.

  Turns out, Patterson’s and The Breakfast Nook did use one particular distributor in sync, though it didn’t explain much. Charlie Staggs, owner of a nearby smokehouse sold them both breakfast meats. Only, Rosie’s customer only had coffee and a bagel. Breakfast meats were out. Bacon wasn’t to blame for the local tragedies.

  John Patterson played it cool. He gave a casual wink to Libby, but wasn’t going to make a scene. He didn’t need the entire world knowing about his dalliance with the woman. Of course, she was less than subtle at times. He’d have to get used to that…maybe. And she thought he was the showy one! They were still feeling out this dating thing. There seemed to be a spark, and even though he’d known her for ages this particular time they developed a bit of chemistry.

  John dropped by the table after making rounds, checking in with customers about their meal satisfaction. He was a warm man, but usually put his own needs high above the rest. The best at making you feel important, all while keeping himself first.

  “I got word that they took Dora in for questioning. Everybody knows her and Christopher were going at it all the time. Why, just the other night, she lashed out at him right in front of Harley's. Word on the street is that she’s target number one,” he said, boasting of his knowledge. “Though, that doesn’t explain your bloke that kicked.”

  Rosie cringed. While she wanted to speak softly about the deaths, he was speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. Rosie was about to answer him, when one Owen Masters walked into Patterson’s, waved at Libby and Rosie, and planted himself next to Libby.

  John Patterson’s eyes popped open wider. Didn’t he know – well, not that he’d made it clear. John had a simple answer. “Libby, are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?”

  Owen turned to look at Libby, and waited for her to answer. While he’d been sweet on her, he didn’t exactly make a move. Were they serious? He’d need to get a step ahead. “Oh, so that means you’re open tonight for dinner? Great! What do you say, do you want to get a bite to eat?”

  John cleared his throat.

  “Oh my,” Libby said. Stuck on display in the corner of the booth, she wasn’t able to escape the awkward situation.

  Rosie looked amused. Normally, her mother was quick to finagle her way in and out of these things, but this time it was getting interesting.

  Owen jumped in. “So, John, can I get a stack of pancakes? I’m going to be avoiding eggs for a while, now that we know that’s how Chris was poisoned at this very establishment.”

  John scowled and walked away.

  Libby had avoided answering. Owen nudged the woman beside him. “Is something going on between you two?”

  “I’m not sure yet. We’re dabbling in the idea, but I’m not committed to anything.” She scrambled to save herself.

  “Good, that means you can have dinner with me tonight.” It was a statement, rather than a question.

  “So, eggs?” Rosie broke into the conversation. “You know, Dora can be a handful, but she’s hardly a stealth woman. That woman glitters and clangs everywhere she goes. Manipulator, sure, but sneaking into a kitchen while people are there, and poisoning the right breakfast plate – I don’t know how she’d pull that off.”

  “I’m not privy to all the details, but I’m inclined to agree with you. That woman couldn’t be quiet if she tried. And coordinating it all? I don’t see her as a big player here. A bitter ex-wife, yeah, but I think that’s about it,” Owen answered.

  “Can you excuse me for a moment,” Libby said. “I need to use the restroom.”

  Owen slid over and got into a deep conversation with Rosie, while Libby snuck around the edges of the restaurant and headed for the back where the bathroom was. John wasn’t far behind her.

  “Are we or aren’t we?” He asked her, his tone falling flat.

  “Are we or aren’t we what?” She played coy.

  He shook his head. “I saw your post. You said in a relationship. Are we? Maybe you need to make Owen know you’re spoken for.”

  “Am I spoken for?” Libby arched an eyebrow.

  John panicked. “I don’t know. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

  “So, why don’t we keep it simple? We’re dating, but open to see other people until we’re certain?”

  John pouted. “Does that mean you’ll be going out with that guy?”

  Libby teased, “Jealous already?”

  He turned away without answering. Libby frowned this time. Had she made a mistake playing them against one another? She’d always needed extra attention, but this time it would get messy.

  Chapter 7

  Jeff Tucker usually came into the restaurant through the front when he stopped by the ‘Nook. This time, with the café closed, he went around back. Jeff pulled open the screened porch door, careful to make sure Dash didn't slip ou
t. Dash could often be found napping on a rocking chair cushion, sunning himself. He was an indoor cat otherwise. Once Jeff knew the cat didn’t slip out, he knocked at the back entrance.

  Rosie opened the kitchen door that led to the porch, only to find her favorite volunteer fireman. He also happened to be the very handsome and sexy local veterinarian. Okay, so maybe she had a little crush on the guy, but it’s not like she was looking to date. She wasn’t interested in a relationship. Rosie liked the simplicity of her life as it was. Relationships complicated things. Her mother was enough of a handful, and Dash was a good companion. He was quiet, listened to her, never complained, and thought she was the bee’s knees. Though, Rosie didn’t mind checking out Mr. Tucker on occasion. He was a cutie, and she was human after all. It would be hard not to notice him.

  Jeff stood a little over six feet tall and sported the broadest shoulders Rosie had ever seen. The ex-marine settled back near his hometown of Sugar Hollow, but landed next door in Spring Valley. His veterinarian practice was in Sugar Hollow. It was a busier place and made more sense. Though living in Spring Valley, he spent a lot of time hanging out at the volunteer fire station. Jeff Tucker was a tall drink of water on a hot summer’s day – heck, even on a winter’s day.

  “Hey, Rosie girl, I’ve got news you might be interested in.” He leaned in closer. There was undeniable chemistry between them, but neither took it any further than harmless flirting. Jeff was married to his business, and well, Rosie didn’t want to be married.

  Rosie stepped aside to let Jeff in. “Can I offer you something to eat or drink?”

  “Oh, I’m fine, thanks, unless of course you – well, never mind. I know you’ve got more important things to worry about than my--” He settled on one of the chairs.

  “I happen to have a few,” she said with a wave of her finger. She knew exactly what he wanted. He didn’t even have to say it. Like clockwork, Jeff ordered a couple of peanut butter cookies after his lunch. “I’ll be right back.”

  She scampered away and returned within minutes.

  “Am I that predictable?” Jeff laughed as Rosie handed him a small bag with cookies in it.

  “I like to keep those on hand myself,” she answered with a wink.

  “I’d say they were for Betty Mae, but that old nag prefers apples and carrots.” He owned a hodge-podge of animals that had been stray, abused, or abandoned. While he couldn’t keep them all, Betty Mae held a special place in his heart. He’d nursed her back to health after a nasty, old farmer starved and abused the girl. Thankfully, they got to her in time. She was living the high life grazing, enjoying fresh food and water, and a warm, comfy barn. And of course, the vet doted on her. The farmer was charged with animal abuse. He ended up paying a fine and served a bit of jail time.

  “I’m going to tell Betty Mae you called her an old nag,” Rosie teased. "I think she looks quite lovely for her age."

  “You know, I jest. She’s my beauty,” he answered with a smile. “So, the reason I’m here… I’m guessing you heard about Dora being under suspicion. After dusting for prints and looking for evidence, they’ve cleared her. Not a trace of anything after checking her work, home, and car.”

  “Wow,” she said, then sat down across from Jeff. “I wonder who did it? And two people? I was going to check with Charlie Staggs. We both use his breakfast meats, but to be honest, it’s a stretch. The guy that was here ordered a bagel and a cup of coffee. Otherwise, I’m not sure what the connection is. Do you think one person killed two people, or do we have two predators on our hands?”

  Jeff shook his head and pushed back on his chair, tipping it up. “I'm pretty sure it's going to be one person. The same poison was used in both cases. What did they tell you?”

  “Not to leave town,” was all she mumbled. “I’m afraid to re-open the restaurant quite honestly.”

  “If you don’t, do you think it will draw more suspicion? Maybe it’s better to go back to business as usual. I don’t think Patterson’s closed down. People still want to eat out.” He watched Rosie’s mouth make an “o” shape and then she stopped before she spoke. “What are you thinking?”

  She sighed heavily. “If I open, it’s like I only care about business, and if I don’t open I could lose my business.”

  “You worried people are talking?” He felt her out.

  She nodded and admitted her fears. “The judgement, I guess. I’m afraid people will think we were responsible. Jeff, what if my business dies because of this? I don’t want to make the wrong decision.”

  “You can’t live your life for others, Rosemary. It’s time to get back on the horse,” Jeff added.

  “What if…”

  “Nope, you can play that game all day long, but it doesn’t get things done.” Jeff settled his chair back down and then stood. “I should get going. I wanted to let you know about the news. One of the guys at the station got the scoop. I’ve got appointments to attend to. I’ll check in on you later.”

  She liked that; knowing Jeff would go out of his way to make sure she was okay. She thanked her friend and saw him to the door. He was a good guy.

  Jeff was right. She needed to keep going. She wasn’t a quitter. She’d go through and get rid of anything suspect, and replace what she needed to. Did he use cream or sugar in his coffee? Had he put cream cheese or butter on his bagel? The eggs were okay, the meats seemed clear, and most of her pastries and baked goods she either made herself, Betsy Beamer supplied, or she got at the supermarket in a pinch.

  Had Betsy had any problems with her baked goods? Could Betsy’s bagels have been botched? Betsy Beamer’s Coffee Bean shop hadn’t seen any recent incidents. There was no reason to suspect the bagels were the issue.

  Betsy and Libby went way back. In fact, Betsy used to babysit Rosie when she was younger. She’d been more like an aunt than a neighboring friend. She offered what little stability Rosie remembered from her past.

  Could it have been the coffee? No, her mother said she’d also drank some coffee. But Rosie’s mom drinks her coffee black. Rosie pushed through the door that led to the restaurant in the front of the home. Her heart thundered as she approached the spot where the dead man had been sitting before his demise. Did he use sugar? And creamer, well, the little packets were back in the box with the others. Rosie picked up the box and dumped all of the creamers into the big trash bin. She picked up the sugar containers and dumped the slender packets of sugar directly after. No more worries there, but what could have happened if it was from there? How would they trace it back?

  Rosie closed her eyes and tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. What was the connection between the two men? What if it wasn’t related to food? No, that made no sense. They both died a day apart in two restaurants that obviously shared distributors. She sat on an opposing stool and looked at the one where Peyton Darling had been. He didn’t get up and walk around in pain? No. He simply dropped. Whatever it was, it must have happened quick…unless, it was a slow acting formula that was already in his system. Rosie’s mind ticked as she tried to brainstorm. She was desperate for answers.

  Rosie looked around. She missed the scent of cinnamon swirl muffins, the quiet chatter of customers, and opening the front door for business. It would happen again, but she needed to be sure everyone that came into her café was safe.

  She headed back to the home portion of the building and locked the restaurant door behind her. Dash met her on the sofa and snuggled against her leg. She slid her fingers through the cat’s soft fur coat and enjoyed hearing the loud purr that sounded more like a motorboat.

  Dash curled up and found a good spot. He could do this all day. Normally, Rosie was at the restaurant, and for some stupid reason cats weren’t allowed in the cafe, or at least that’s what Rosie said. Whoever made that rule was dumb. D.U.M.B. Dumb. Cats made every environment better. Well, at least in his eyes they did.

  Rosie lingered on the victims. What did she know about the men, other than their familiarity of li
ving in the same small town? Sure she recognized them, saw them, but really didn’t know anything in depth. She rarely pried when they spoke at the restaurant, and kept things on lighter topics like the weather. She knew Peyton and Nancy had gone through a nasty divorce that never seemed to end. Nancy was Charlie Staggs’s sister. She once owned the little Bed and Breakfast on Main Street. Peyton snatched it away during their divorce, which left his ex-wife bitter and vowing to get revenge. Word has it that he’d been dragging his feet through the mud, refusing to finalize everything, even though most of the details were handled. Nobody knew the full details other than Charlie, Nancy’s brother. Nancy wasn’t much of a gossip and mostly kept to herself these days.

  Her brother Charlie, the one that owned the smoke shop, doted on Nancy. He tried to chase away her demons by setting her up in a little gift and antique shop next to his place over on Spring Valley Pike. The weird thing was that Peyton closed the Bed and Breakfast business down, letting it fall into disrepair. He knew it was Nancy’s dream business, and now she’d have to see her dream dilapidated every time she drove through town. Was that better than running it and owning a thriving business in his eyes?

  Was Nancy bitter? Yes…but a killer? Rosie had a hard time believing Nancy could be pushed that far, but who knew. Though, Peyton was up to no good. Last she heard, he’d hired a fancy-pants Philadelphia lawyer to make another grab at Nancy’s life. There were rumors for sure, but nothing was set in stone.

  Nancy and Peyton were one story, while Dora and Christopher were quite another.

  Chapter 8

  When Gary Snyder showed up at The Breakfast Nook, Libby knew it wasn’t to socialize. They’d only just re-opened the place after being closed for two days. Now was as good as ever, so the women decided to go for it and started serving breakfast and lunch again. When it came down to the dead man, Rosie was pretty sure Peyton hadn’t fallen ill from his quick breakfast. Nothing pointed to it anyway. She wasn’t a gambler by nature, but this was almost a sure bet.