“Well, I do so love mysteries,” Kel blushed, taking another cupcake and feeling a bit like he’d earned it.
“So, did she actually try to poison our little Toffee-girl?” Echo asked.
Missy gritted her teeth for a moment, then took in a breath and let it out in a sigh. “Yes. When Chas was in the Pewter Parlor taking Kendra’s statement about the “attack,” he had Spencer go up into her room to look for the bowl of pate. He found it in the trash, and bagged it as evidence. When Chas had it tested, it contained near-lethal amounts of prescription drugs that Kendra had obtained illegally somehow. If we hadn’t had Toffee’s stomach pumped…” her voice broke and trailed off.
“But you did,” Kel reminded her gently. “And the lovely gal looks fit as a fiddle now. Don’t you girl?” he called out to the porch and was rewarded by a sleepy thump of the tail.
“Yes, all’s well that ends well,” Echo agreed. “Even if I’m still having violent visions whenever I think of that woman,” she frowned.
“I think it’ll take all of us a while to get past this,” Missy said.
“Well I’m going to try focusing on the sweet things in life,” Kel announced. “Like these,” he reached for another cupcake and the gals laughed at his antics.
Toffee stood up joyfully to greet someone, and the trio looked out the door to see Chelsea Covington giving the retriever some love.
“Hi, Chelsea, come on in,” Missy invited the dear girl who had essentially just lost both parents.
“Poor lamb,” Echo said in a whisper.
“Hi, Mrs. Beckett,” she entered the shop shyly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Chapter 19
“She wants to go ahead with the wedding?” Echo was astounded.
“She’s a tough cookie,” Missy replied with admiration. “She said that losing both of her parents has made her and Max even closer as a couple, and she wants to move forward with her life.”
“Did you tell her about what happened to your parents?” Echo asked softly.
Missy’s parents were killed in a tragic accident when she was only seventeen. Instead of selling the family cupcake shop, she enlisted the help of friends and community members and kept the business going, while earning her degree. She eventually became so successful that she opened a second shop. When she left Louisiana several months ago, she closed the second shop, and gave the first one to Grayson, a manager who had become like a son to her. They still communicated regularly, and she was pleased that both the shop and Grayson were thriving, despite her move to Florida.
“Yes, of course I did, poor girl. I could totally relate to what she was going through,” Missy nodded.
“Well that kind of encouragement was probably more important to her than you know,” her friend gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
“I can only hope.”
**
Instead of having the wedding at the gothic cathedral that her mother had selected, Chelsea asked Missy for permission to have the ceremony at the inn, and of course, received wholehearted approval. The young bride-to-be also fired the wedding planner and decorator that Kendra had hired, bringing in Missy’s friend Carla to handle the decorations, and dealing with the other logistics on her own.
The inn was magically transformed on the day that Max Vance married Chelsea Covington. Carla and Missy had outdone themselves. Leaves and roses twined around the center staircase where Chelsea would descend, and every room on the first floor was awash in white satin, lace and flowers. The entire place smelled heavenly, including the kitchen, where Maggie managed the catering staff that had been hired.
Chelsea’s uncle Victor, Carlson’s quiet and unassuming elder brother, who was the executor of his brother’s estate and who had informed Chelsea that she had just inherited hundreds of millions of dollars, walked her down the stairs and through the parlor, where her true love awaited her, sweating like no tomorrow, but thrilled to be getting married. Toffee and Bitsy were the ring bearers and performed their task proudly, much to the delight of everyone present.
The wedding was heartfelt and beautiful, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room by the time the newlyweds kissed. Missy, who always loved a good wedding, was in her element, flitting from guest to guest, making certain that plates and goblets were filled, conversations were happening, and a good time was had by all. At the end of the day, when the newly married couple escaped in a limousine for a night on the town, she and Chas collapsed onto the sofa on the sun porch, dogs at their feet.
“I’m soooo tired,” she yawned, kicking off her shoes. “But that was absolutely beautiful and so much fun,” she sighed happily.
“Just like you, Sweetie,” Chas said, kissing the tip of her nose.
She snuggled up under his arm, her head on his broad, muscular chest and sighed with contentment.
“It’s hard to believe that everything worked out,” she marveled, thinking back over the past couple of weeks.
“I’m glad it did though. Chelsea is a very strong and courageous young lady,” her husband replied. “Just like someone else I know,” he kissed the top of his wife’s head and was rewarded with a healthy snore. Chuckling, he leaned his head back and was soon both were sawing logs.
Chapter 20
Missy and Echo walked along the beach, both wearing sweaters and jeans on the unseasonably cold Florida day. It was one of those days that would be perfectly tolerable if it weren’t for the stiff breeze coming in off of the ocean. Missy’s blonde curls were tamed in a messy bun, but carefree Echo let her crimson tresses take flight, enjoying the wind in her hair, despite the rat’s nest of tangles that she’d have to contend with later.
“I love Florida,” the native Californian sighed, her face turned up toward the sun, a beatific smile on her face.
“Never thought I’d hear those words out of a California girl,” Missy teased.
“You’re quite a long way from the bayou yourself, Ms. Louisiana,” Echo shot back.
“Yeah, I miss it sometimes,” she confessed.
“Me too, believe it or not,” her friend admitted.
“Really?” Missy was surprised. It seemed like living in Dellville had been nothing but a string of unfortunate occurrences for Echo.
“Of course. Our shops were across the street from each other, so I got to see you all the time, the people were sweet and had adorable accents like yours, the vegan Cajun dishes were to die for – it was fantastic.”
“So why did you leave?”
“Because everything was changing. You and Chas were getting married and starting your life, Ben and Cheryl were moving away,” she said, referring to the managers of Missy’s stores who had gotten married and had a baby. Those folks weren’t just a part of Missy’s family, they were almost the entirety of it. “I didn’t want to be the only one left in Dellville, missing all of you guys. Besides, people there thought that I was weird,” she grinned.
“What’s wrong with that? You are weird,” Missy teased. “It’s why we get along so well,” she nudged her best friend with an elbow.
“Yes, we do, don’t we, you little weirdo,” she grinned and twined her arm through Missy’s.
“So, have you decided what you’re going to do when you grow up?” Missy asked.
“Okay, let’s get one thing straight – I never intend to grow up,” she giggled. “But yes, I’ve finally reached a decision as to how I’m going to spend the rest of my childhood. I’m going to do it right here in sunny Florida, beside my bestie,” she announced as Missy wrapped her in a bear hug.
“Oh, Echo, I’m so glad! I can’t even begin to tell you,” she said, hugging the stuffing out of her sweet hippie friend.
“I know, I’m so excited,” she confessed. “But I’ll only be able to work mornings for you at the cupcake shop,” she said.
“That’s fine with me, but, why? What are you up to?” Missy grinned, ecstatic that Echo would be staying.
“Kel is actually going to be opening his
own gallery, and I’ll be working there in the afternoons.”
“Kel’s opening a gallery? Oh my gosh! That’s fantastic – he’s so talented,” Missy was impressed and proud and bursting at the seams with happiness. “What an awesome day,” she exclaimed, enveloping Echo in another hug.
Chapter 21
Spencer Bengal was taking a much needed rest, basking in the sun beside the pool at the inn. He lived in a basement apartment on the property, and was invited to use all of the inn’s amenities whenever he wasn’t working, and today was a rare day off. He had some projects that needed to be done, but Missy had told him in no uncertain terms to take the day off, or else, so here he sat.
“How’s the water?” he opened his eyes when he heard Chas Beckett’s voice.
“Cool and refreshing as usual, sir,” was the somewhat sleepy reply.
“Just call me Chas,” the detective smiled. “I think after helping me detain a cold-blooded killer that seems appropriate.”
“Yes, sir. I mean…alright Chas. Thanks,” Spencer closed his eyes again.
His boss spread a towel on the lounger next to his and sat his drink in the limited shade under the table between the chairs, hoping that the ice in his vodka tonic wouldn’t melt too quickly.
“No scars,” the detective remarked as he lay back and took a sip of his drink.
“Huh?” the young man was confused.
“Looks like you came back from Afghanistan with no scars,” Chas said, gesturing to Spencer’s finely-muscled, tanned torso and legs.
“Not visible ones anyway,” the Marine said soberly, a faraway look in his eyes.
“Pretty rough over there?”
“It’s hard to even grasp unless you’ve lived it. I saw things that still cause me to wake up from dreams in a cold sweat, my heart pounding, terrified. People ask me about it sometimes. They ask if I was ever shot at, if I ever killed anybody, if I ever saw death. What they don’t realize is that if I have to think about it, even long enough to answer a simple question…I relive it. The pain, the fear, the anger and shame – every bit of it comes back. I’m proud to have served my country, don’t get me wrong, but there are things that happen in war that should never happen to anyone, ever. Things that no one should have to ever see, or think about…or feel,” he shook his head.
“Hey, I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have brought it up, I guess,” Chas replied, his heart going out to the still-hurting young warrior.
“Nah, don’t worry. I don’t mind talking to you. In a way, you’ve been there. I would think that crime scenes can sometimes compare to what I went through, just not on as big of a scale maybe,” he shrugged.
“It’s just a whole different world over there. While I was gone, people told me that I was a hero, told me that I was making a difference in the world and that I was making folks back home proud. They were proud of me when I was just doing everything that I could to keep myself and my buddies alive – it was survival, not heroics, ya know? It got to the point where we all realized that we weren’t there for any particular cause, we were there for our brothers. Our job was to keep each other alive…and we did whatever we had to in order to accomplish that,” the muscles in Spencer’s jaw twitched briefly and he swallowed hard before continuing.
“Then we get home, and all of the sudden we don’t matter anymore. I walk down the street, looking for IED’s and enemy personnel behind every palmetto and holly bush,” he shook his head. “It was really hard to keep my head up sometimes, ya know? But just like when we were in battle, we just have to keep going and keep fighting and keep surviving until life makes sense again,” he finished.
“And does life make sense again?” Chas asked quietly, humbled at the sacrifice of a man so young and brave.
“It’s starting to, Chas. Little by little, it’s starting to.”
The detective nodded. “Let me know if there’s ever anything that I can do,” he said, meaning it.
“Aye, sir. Chas,” Spencer smiled.
“I’m gonna grab a six pack, wanna help me blow through it?” the career cop asked the young Marine.
“Yep, I believe I do,” he grinned a crooked smile, from one warrior to another.
Chapter 22
“Congratulations!” Missy practically squealed, she was so happy for her friend, and threw her arms around his neck, planting a big kiss on his cheek.
“Goodness, fair lady, if I knew it would garner that type of response, I’d have opened a gallery long ago,” Kel beamed, pleased with himself.
“Echo, you look beautiful,” she grabbed her best friend by the arm and dragged her away, leaving Chas to chat with Kel. “Sooooo…does this mean that things are getting a little bit serious between you two?” Missy asked, raising her eyebrows and glancing over at Kel, who couldn’t take his eyes off of her beautiful friend.
“Oh, just stop it,” Echo laughed. “Can’t a man and a woman be friends without people just assuming things?” she asked, shaking her head.
“I don’t know…” Missy replied slyly. “Can they?”
“Well, fancy meeting you girls here,” a familiar voice broke into their private world.
“Carla, it’s good to see you,” Missy said, giving her a hug.
“You too, gorgeous,” the decorator replied with a smile, then turned her gaze to Echo. “Echo,” she greeted her tonelessly.
“Carla,” Echo replied with the same inflection.
“Wherever did you get your gown?” the newcomer asked the carefree Californian, who was clearly feeling saucy.
“Your mother’s closet,” was the snappy comeback.
Carla was decidedly taken aback. “What? Why I never…” she sputtered.
“Really, because if you’ve truly never, then you really should. Your Mother’s Closet is a great little thrift store on the boardwalk. Not sure they have children’s sizes though,” she mused, scrutinizing the decorator’s tiny figure.
“Oh, you mean it’s for plus-sized only?” Carla asked innocently, looking Echo up and down. There was no way on earth the lithe redhead was plus-sized, despite being nearly six feet tall, and she was not terribly concerned about body image, so the jibe rolled off of her like water off a duck’s back.
“Well, as scintillating as I find this conversation, I do have other guests to attend to, so I’m going to run,” Echo made her excuses.
“Oh, wow, your guests? I didn’t realize that Kel had switched teams,” Carla smiled sweetly. “Well congratulations…I didn’t think anyone could turn him from his fancy ways.”
“I’m his Gallery Director,” Echo informed the decorator. “So, in the future if you need to purchase for clients, or set up a consultation, you’ll want to give me a call,” she said, handing the stunned woman a business card.
“Oh, yes, that’s exactly what I’ll want to do,” Carla huffed as Echo strolled over to another group of guests.
“Play nice, ladies,” Missy said dryly.
“That’s the problem, girl, she doesn’t know how the game is played, and it’s gonna hit her hard when she finds out,” the decorator said, eyes narrowed.
**
“I wish Echo and Carla could get along,” Missy sighed, crawling into bed.
Chas chuckled. “Good luck with that, I’ve never seen such fierce cat fights in my life as the ones that I’ve witnessed when the two of them are in the same room.”
“Does it happen like this with guys?” she asked, frustrated.
“Not that I know of. Guys needs are pretty simple – watch a game, play a game, drink a beer, have some pizza, play some poker, and life is good,” he shrugged.
“Then why is it so hard for women?” she persisted, bothered by the fact that her friends don’t get along.
“Because you pick favorites,” Chas replied, as if that explained it all.
“Huh?” Missy was confused.
“No matter how fair you intend to be, women have a favorite, a bestie, their confidant. Carla knows that Echo is your best
friend, and while she lived in California, it was okay, because she was remote, but now Carla feels threatened,” he explained.
“Oh, that’s just silly!”
“Is it?” he challenged gently. “If they were both in danger of drowning and you could only save one of them, who would it be?”
“That’s totally not a fair question, because I haven’t known Carla for as long as I’ve known Echo,” she pouted.
“It’s not about the length, sweetheart, it’s about the depth,” he said, kissing her and turning out the light.
His wife’s voice reached out to him in the dark. “You’re my favorite…” he could hear the smile in her voice.
“You’re my favorite, too,” he replied, grinning in the dark.
Silence. Then…. “I thought men don’t have favorites.”
“Good night, Missy.”
“Good night Chas.”
Copyright 2015 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
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Summer Prescott
Apple Cider Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 18 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 6
