Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set

by Meredith Potts

  “Do you think it has?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” He let out another sigh. “For better or worse, it’s time to get back to the shop.”

  “I hope the rest of the night goes better for you.”

  “So do I.”

  Andrew got up from the table, said one last good-bye, then left the restaurant.

  Chapter Eight

  It would be nice to tell you that the rest of my evening went better. Between my concern for Andrew and the cloud of suspicion that surrounded the group of men that had gathered at the banquet hall, uncertainty made its presence felt all through dinner.

  When David and I finished up with our meal, my boyfriend drove me home. On the way, he slowed down as we passed the banquet hall. Oddly enough, the parking lot was completely empty, and there were no lights on in the building. Whatever the meeting had been about, not only was it over, but everyone had left in a hurry. So much for clearing up my suspicion. I was now more suspicious than ever.

  With answers in such short supply, after returning home, instead of letting my thoughts get tangled up even more, I decided to call it a night. My body didn’t put up an argument. After all that had gone on that day, I was able to crash out in record time. Before I dozed off, I did manage to say a little prayer in hopes that the following day would go much better.

  The next thing I knew, the morning sun was creeping into my bedroom, making me realize that I had not shut my curtains all the way the previous evening. While I had been awakened unexpectedly, I couldn’t really complain. As I looked at the time on my cell phone, I saw that I had gotten plenty of sleep.

  Besides, all I had to do was glance at the bottom of my bed to realize that Snickerdoodle had been ready to wake me up had the sun not been successful in doing so. My adorably stumpy corgi barked at me to give him a walk, and I wasn’t about to keep him waiting.

  “All right, boy. Don’t worry. I’m getting up right now.”

  A few minutes later, Snickerdoodle and I were out the door, making our rounds of the neighborhood. In true doggie fashion, Snickerdoodle’s focus was on sniffing every tree, fire hydrant, and light pole that he spotted.

  I paid more attention to the restored Victorian houses that we passed as well as the leafy oak trees that lined the street. The scenery of my neighborhood had always caught my attention, but that morning, there was another reason that I found myself so focused on the beauty of my surroundings. As much as I loved living in Treasure Cove, I couldn’t help but look at my hometown in a different light.

  There was no denying that it was still picturesque, but with all the mysterious occurrences that had begun to pop up, clearly there was another side to this town that I had never noticed before. It was as if I had been too busy staring at a pretty rose to notice the thorns that had been beneath the flower all along. Now that some of the thorns had come to my attention, I wondered how many else there were that I had yet to uncover.

  For better or for worse, I didn’t have too much time to get lost in thought. A work shift awaited at the coffee shop, so I brought Snickerdoodle home, changed into my work clothes, then headed off to Daley Buzz.

  My drive from the north end of town to Main Street was as quiet as ever. It always was at seven in the morning. Even the beach, which would be jam packed with tourists later in the day, was as tranquil as ever, save for a few surfers who were busy riding the morning waves.

  After passing by the beach, I headed toward the carefully manicured grass of Founder’s Park. From there, I made my way to the town square, where sunlight dappled through the trees and onto the bronze statue of Treasure Cove’s founding father, Jameson Murphy.

  When I turned right onto Main Street, I saw that I was the only vehicle on the road. What an odd experience. While I would have preferred to have slept in, I did take a certain appreciation from the fact that I got to see the town before the majority of its residents woke up. This sleepy side to Treasure Cove was so peaceful and pretty. After all, in just a few hours, the streets would be as jammed as the thoughts that were crowding my mind.

  ***

  Thankfully, the first few hours of my work shift went by in an uneventful fashion. All that changed when Tom Dillon entered the coffee shop. I had been waiting for this moment to come ever since I had spotted Tom filing into the banquet hall for the mysterious meeting the night before.

  Tom was a five-foot-ten fifty-six-year-old man with an angular face, a thick mustache, and short black hair. He was carrying a few extra pounds around his waist, which he never seemed to be able to lose, despite all of the diets that he had tried.

  In addition to attending secret meetings, Tom was a local real estate developer and one of my regulars here at Daley Buzz. Unlike Jake Williamson, who was the dominant force on the commercial side of the local real estate industry, Tom was a bigwig on the residential side of the business. He had not stated this publicly, but the rumor was that Tom had his sights set on building a new tract of homes off of Route 32.

  Of course, a big kahuna like Tom had a number of plans. But despite all of the developing that he wanted to do around town, he had never expressed interest in buying the old Watterson estate, even just to tear the place down and build something new on the grounds. That was saying a lot, considering how large of a plot of land the estate sat on. I had a feeling it was the rumors about the place being cursed that had kept him from making a move on the property.

  Tom must not have spotted me in the car at the banquet hall last night, because he approached the front counter of the shop without any awkwardness in his step. Even though my mind was filled with a number of burning questions about the secret meeting, I decided to make some small talk with him before hitting him with any heavy subject matter.

  “Morning, Tom,” I said.

  “Morning,” he replied.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “Double espresso.”

  “Coming up.” I fired up the espresso. “You have a good night?”

  His face tensed up. Tom’s sudden change of expression was very telling to me, especially since I asked him that same question every morning when he came in. Usually, he gave me a simple response. That time, he was filled with hesitation.

  “Uh…yeah,” he replied.

  That pause had gone on uncomfortably long.

  Seeing how awkward my simple question had made him only spurred my curiosity on even more. That was just a little quirk about how my brain was wired. It was always the things I knew the least about that fascinated me the most. Rarely did I come across a mystery that I didn’t want to solve. Even more, the longer the suspicion was strung out, the more it gnawed at the back of my brain. That was the case with Tom. Right then, I craved answers.

  “Did you do anything special last night?” I asked.

  “No.”

  He had tried to be nonchalant, but that rang false to me. That wasn’t all. His body language betrayed him. His muscles were anything but loose.

  “Then why were you all dressed up last night?”

  He shrugged. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw you outside the old banquet hall.”

  Tom became as stiff as a corpse. “You did?” He took an accusatory tone with me. “What were you doing out there?”

  He was having trouble keeping a lid on his temper, so I consciously went the opposite way.

  I replied calmly in hopes that it would make him relax. “My boyfriend and I were driving by the banquet hall on the way to dinner. We saw a bunch of very well-dressed men piling into the building. Were you guys having some kind of special meeting?”

  “Are you sure you weren’t seeing things?” he asked.

  I stared him down with clear eyes. “I know what I saw.”

  “Are you sure you saw me?”

  I gave him a definitive nod. “Yes.”

  Tom waved his hand dismissively. “It was nothing.”

  This conversation was really testing my nerves. Frustration was bui
lding inside me, to the point where I was having trouble keeping my emotions in check.

  Things weren’t so easy for Tom, either. Every one of his responses seemed designed to get me to drop the subject, but he clearly didn’t realize that each time he tried avoiding my question, the more determined I became to get the truth.

  “It sure looked like something,” I said.

  “It was just a mixer,” he replied.

  Tom must have thought I was the most gullible person in town. People weren’t so secretive over things like social mixers. Mostly because nothing secretive happened at mixers. Those were filled with just a bunch of local store owners exchanging business cards, making small talk, and eating store-bought deli platters. What I saw last night was something more. I was convinced of it.

  “I haven’t been to a chamber of commerce mixer in a while,” I said. “You should tell me when the next one is. We can go together.”

  He shook his head. “These kinds of mixers are invite-only.”

  “And yet you tried to tell me that it wasn’t a big deal. What kind of a mixer requires an invitation to get in? More importantly, what do you have to do to get an invitation?”

  Tom looked like he was fresh out of ways to change the subject. He seemed poised to make a hasty exit. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out two dollar bills and put them down on the counter.

  “I have to be getting to work.”

  I tried to get another word in, but before I had the chance to, he grabbed his double espresso and headed off.

  Talk about mysterious. Each time I tried making sense of what I had seen at that banquet hall, my suspicions grew. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what had gone on at that meeting. Even more, the attendees seemed to be willing to go to great lengths to keep that information from coming out. But why?

  Before I could fixate on that baffling question any longer, a familiar face came into the coffee shop.

  Chapter Nine

  Shannon Smith was a petite twenty-eight-year-old redhead who had freckles dotting the cheeks of her round face. I had known her for decades, which was saying a lot, considering that I wasn’t even thirty years old yet. Shannon and I had met in elementary school and had been friends ever since.

  Unfortunately, for a great deal of that time, relationship problems had plagued her. If she wasn’t busy picking the wrong guy to be with, she was having trouble finding any guy to notice her. The irony was that while the romantic side of her life was a mess, professionally, she was in a great place. Shannon was the owner of one of the most successful sandwich shops in town. As my taste buds could attest, she deserved all the success that came her way.

  Every weekday before heading off to work, she stopped by the coffee shop to grab a large vanilla latte.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  She did not share my enthusiasm. My friend looked like she hadn’t entirely woken up yet.

  “More like a groggy morning. It will feel good to get a latte in me,” Shannon replied.

  Her eyes were filled with concern, which made me believe that far more was going on than just a lack of caffeine in her system.

  We were close enough friends that I didn’t feel like I had to make random small talk with her before diving into deeper water.

  “Why do I get the feeling that you’re having more than just a latte craving?” I reached out to her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Shannon arched her eyebrows. “Caffeine first, problem-solving later.”

  By the sound of her response, my hunch had been right. Before I pressed further, I began making her latte. When I had finished preparing her favorite drink, I returned to the issue at hand.

  “So you are having problems, then?” I asked.

  She took a sip of her latte. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Kind of.”

  “It’s uncanny how you always know when something is wrong.”

  “That isn’t as important to me as figuring out how to fix the problem. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Shannon let out a sigh. “You don’t want to hear my problems.”

  “Shannon, what do you think friends are for?”

  “To listen to each other’s problems.”

  “Exactly. Now, I don’t know if I can make you feel better, but I’d like to try.”

  She gave me a warm smile. “You’re such a good friend.”

  I gave her a smile of my own. “So are you. Now, let’s see if I can help. What’s the problem?”

  She took a deep breath. “Joe Marlowe wants to go out with me.”

  My face filled with confusion. “How is that a problem? You’ve been waiting for a man to come into your life.”

  Her eyes widened. “Isn’t that the truth?” She took a deep breath. “The problem is that Gavin Zeller wants to get back together with me.”

  Oh dear.

  There was a name that I never thought I would hear again. Gavin was her no-good ex-boyfriend. Of course, she had a much different opinion of him at first. When they began dating, Gavin had been charming and gainfully employed. All that changed after he had a skiing accident at Lake Tahoe where he dislocated his knee.

  Understandably, he was in a lot of pain, so the doctor at the hospital gave him some painkillers. The problem was when his prescription ran out, Gavin was hooked on the high they gave him. He begged his primary physician to prescribe more.

  The longer he took the pills, the more he became addicted to them. If only I could tell you that he had found a way to cut the painkillers out of his life. In truth, things only snowballed from there. I will spare you the dubious details, but suffice it to say that Gavin reached a point where he was so addicted to his meds that he was willing to sacrifice his job, his relationship, and whatever else it took to get his hands on more pills.

  I didn’t normally take an aggressive stand when it came to other people’s lives, but this was the rare exception. “Gavin Zeller? The same guy who stole money from you to feed his painkiller addiction?”

  Shannon was quick to argue with me. “Only he’s not the addict I once knew. He has changed.”

  “Don’t believe everything an addict tells you.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but he has cleaned up his act.”

  I folded my arms. “You’re right. That is hard to believe.”

  Shannon gazed at me with clear eyes. “Sabrina, you know I’m not a glutton for punishment. When I broke up with Gavin, I had no intention of ever speaking to him again, much less take him back. But if you saw how much he has changed, it would blow your mind. It’s like he’s a completely different man.”

  “Did he tell you how he had managed to get himself together?”

  “Apparently, he has been seeing this hypnotherapist—”

  “Hypnotherapist?”

  At first, I thought she was joking. As I stared deep into her eyes, it became clear that she wasn’t kidding. Although she did appear to be in a hurry to change the topic of the conversation.

  “We can talk more about how he cleaned up his act later. The important thing is that he did kick his addiction.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “How does hypnotherapy change a person’s personality?”

  Shannon shrugged. “The sessions work wonders, apparently.”

  I remained critical of her simple explanation. But, seeing how uncomfortable my questions were making her, I didn’t force the issue anymore.

  “So you’ve found your way into a love triangle, huh?” I asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Pretty crazy, isn’t it?”

  I had a bigger question on my mind. “Do you know who you’re going to pick?”

  She bit the corner of her lip. “I don’t have a clue. I mean, a week ago, I couldn’t even get shot in this town, much less get a date. Now there are two men who want to be with me.”

  She wasn’t kidding. It was amazing what a sense of irony that life had sometimes. It had been nearly five months since Shannon’s last date. Yet now look at
her. What a difficult situation to be placed in.

  My heart went out to her. “That has got to be a lot to deal with.”

  Shannon groaned. “Too much.”

  “Are you leaning toward one guy more than another?”

  Shannon grimaced. “I’m leaning toward paying Miss Terri a visit.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. “Who is Miss Terri?”

  “You know? Miss Terri, the spiritual adviser.”

  It was hard not to keep from bursting into laughter. If only Shannon had been joking. Even though I realized she was being completely serious, I wasn’t able to keep a straight face. Instead, I chuckled.

  Shannon shot me a glare. “Don’t laugh.”

  “It’s hard not to when you mention going to a psychic—”

  “Spiritual advisor.”

  I arched my eyebrows at her. “Seriously?”

  Shannon put her hands on her hips. “Laugh all you want, but I’ve heard people say some amazing things about Miss Terri.”

  “Hey, it’s your money.”

  She exhaled. “I need all the help I can get here.”

  I shook my head. “Hypnotherapy. Psychics. This town sure is something.”

  “You can certainly never accuse Treasure Cove of being boring,” Shannon replied.

  “Suddenly, boring doesn’t seem so bad,” I said.

  Chapter Ten

  Not surprisingly, Shannon’s romantic troubles proved to be too difficult to solve over one latte. Shannon finished her drink then headed off to work.

  I, meanwhile, had some trash to empty. As I made my way back to the dumpster with a full bag of trash in my hand, I soon discovered that the twists and turns of the day were far from over.

  When I opened the door to the back alleyway behind the coffee shop, a horrifying sight awaited me. In front of the dumpster, face down on the ground, was Andrew Stewart’s lifeless body. A bloody gash was at the back of his head.