Crumb Cake, Corpses and the Run of the Mill
Page 17
I opened my eyes again and watched the horizon, allowing the waves to hypnotize me before I walked back up the beach path to town. In my hypnotic state, I walked smack into a solid human body.
I didn’t have to look up to know the body was male. The giveaway was the smell of testosterone-tinged sweat.
“Shoot! Sorry!” I yelped and jumped back.
I looked up in time to see his eyes narrow ever so slightly, but the man said nothing. And didn’t move at all as I looked up at him. He was solidly built for an older man. I could attest to that, having just collided with him. He was dressed in the strangest manner.
“Excuse me,” he said finally, his voice low and toneless.
I blinked, then shifted awkwardly as he moved passed me toward the beach. I hadn’t realized how far I’d walked—I was quite secluded. As soon as he was gone, I hurried on my way. Danior would be worried if I wasn’t at the café on time, and we didn’t need another missing young woman to add to the list.
I had just returned to the Villa by the Sea Café & Bookstore and resumed my seat when Danior appeared.
"Sorry I took so long,” she said, pulling up a chair. “I got sidetracked in the music store. Look, I bought a set of bongos."
I smiled and nudged the take-out bag with the last warm coconut roll across the table. "Of course, you did. Here, eat. Only one left.”
Danior reached slim fingers with bright yellow-lacquered nails across the table and snatched the bag along with my coffee cup—taking the last swig of the café’s signature chocolate peanut roast.
I put my hands into my dress pocket and reached for my cell phone. "Do you think Daemon Wraith has arrived yet?"
"Probably—but he’s not staying at the Plantation. He’s going to meet you and the other divers tomorrow on the beach," Danior replied.
Daemon Wraith was a friend of Nana Vianus who also happened to be dating Danior’s sister, Mallory. He owned a private agency, Paranormal Investigations, and the cases he took generally had an unusual twist, something inexplicable, even supernatural which I thought was hocus pocus but what did I know. Apparently, Nana thought a private investigator and a ghostbuster wannabe could get to the bottom of the disappearance of Lise and the other girls faster than the local police force.
I rolled my eyes to the blue sky, squinting in the light. "I bumped into a curiously dressed man on my way." I looked in the direction of the beach. “He had on this long white robe and head wrap, and he was wearing rows of beads around his neck. Then I saw a poster for a Candomblé festival with similarly dressed women and the poster looked very voodoo-esqe. What’s the deal with this place? I thought Brazil was mostly Catholic?”
“It is, but believe it or not, there’s a big Voodoo following here in Brazil. Vera tells me Candomblé worships Vodun with animal immolation and spirit possession, sort of like Santería in Cuba or Vodou in Haiti.
Danior looked at her cell phone and stood. "We better get a move on or we’ll miss our ride."
I fell in step beside her as we double-timed it along the ocean’s walk to where a speedboat bobbed against the old-fashioned wooden dock. I secured my ginger hair into a top knot and picked up the pace. The light complexion that went along with it wasn't ideal for life in South America and I was looking forward to getting to the Plantation. We jumped onto the white-and-blue flat-bottom boat that was the dedicated speedboat for the Paranormal Plantation Resort and Bo, the driver, swept off his cap, offered a toothy smile, and gave us an exaggerated bow. "Welcome, ladies."
The boat ride to the resort took about twenty minutes and we docked right on the beach below the resort.
I stepped out of the boat just as Danior’s boyfriend, Emilion, jogged up, looking far more casual than usual in white shorts and a turquoise t-shirt. I had only ever seen him in his Caravan Manor costumes, which ranged from sensual gypsy man to silly carnival character.
He kissed Danior’s cheek. “How was the mainland?”
“Busy,” Danior laughed, and handed him her shopping bags.
“Ah, but I see you still managed to find some time to shop.”
“Of course. Come on, Pen, let’s get you settled,” Danior said, reaching for my suitcase. “Then we can introduce you to Vera and Nevel. I know Vera’s eager to fill you in on the missing girls. The local police haven’t been much help.”
“Who’s Nevel?” I asked as we walked up the path to the secluded plantation house.
“Nevel is Vera’s boyfriend. He’s also the local contractor who’s been helping her fix up the place.”
The caryota palms overhanging the pathway were thick with fishtail-looking leaves, and the warm air felt rich with the fake promise of relaxation. As we walked, I glanced behind at the lovebirds who were whispering to each other.
That was when the mansion caught my eye. Set among cypress trees and an expansive green lawn, the main building was an old plantation house. What a sight to behold. Instead of dripping with bright colors, or that tiki-island charm that you so often find in warmer countries, the decor was sophisticated, pared down—lots of dark wood, cream tones, and gauzy white fabric.
They took me in a back entrance, stating there was a tour going on in the front area. The tours the plantation gave covered topics ranging from the indigenous tribes who inhabited the island before it was colonized by Portugal in the 1500s, to the coming of the first British explorers, the pirates, and the Confederados who fled to Brazil after the Civil War.
Up a flight of stairs and down the hall, I was led to a room with a beautiful four poster bed. It was nice—light and airy despite the dark thick build of the furniture and the huge wooden ceiling fan. The French doors had louvered shutters that opened onto a wraparound veranda and next to that was a large wooden armoire which looked like something Tommy Bahama had thrown together.
“Come downstairs once you’ve freshened up.” Danior said, leaving me alone.
I stripped down and hopped into the shower, letting the spray of hot water do a number on muscles achy from the early morning travel. In and out in a matter of minutes, I nevertheless felt refreshed, and thanks to the veranda doors I could feel a nice breeze circulating through the room as I buffed my body with a fluffy white towel.
A sudden feeling of paranoia came over me as I dried my leg—someone was watching me.
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Authors Note:
Well, hello there! Thank you for reading the third book in my new House Flipper series!
For those of you who are new to Haunted House Flippers, you should know that there are two books ahead of this one. You should also know it’s the seventh book in the world of Bohemian Lake.
For those of you who’ve read all seven, welcome back and thank you for your unwavering support. I hope you got a kick out of Doctor Albert Downey and his murdered bride Victoria. (Yes, I named them after the royals. Tee hee.) As a reader, some of my favorite books have storylines that interject between past and present and I just love when it all comes full circle. I hope this ending felt satisfying as the ghostly pair have now moved on, at least I think they have.
Anyway, you will be getting more Bohemian Lake books but first were gonna take a little island vacation with Penny and Danior, so grab your oversized shades and sunblock and let’s read outside next time. As per usual, a big thanks to my family, friends, beta readers, reviewers and fans for their generosity and encouragement. Thanks to my awesome editor, Susan Croft. And of course, a big shout-out to my beta reader, Denise Howeth. Once again, thank you for reading my books. If you want more, please be sure to review them on Amazon, Goodreads and BookBub. I decide which books to write based on your reviews so you might find your favorite characters cut if you don’t support them.
P.S. Come and say hello on my Facebook page, Twitter or my website. I post teasers, new covers and offer up giveaways in my monthly newsletters. Oh, and check out my blog for a c
opy of the Bohemian family tree.
With much gratitude,
Rachael
Apple Crumb Muffins
Ingredients:
Crumb Topping
1/3 cup (67g) packed light or dark brown sugar
1 Tablespoon (15g) granulated sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup (60g) unsalted butter, melted
2/3 cup (84g) all-purpose flour
Muffins
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup yogurt, at room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 and 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup milk at room temperature
1 and 1/2 cups peeled, chopped apple
Glaze
1 cup confectioners' sugar
3 Tablespoons heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Directions:
Crumb topping: In a medium bowl, combine both sugars, the cinnamon, and melted butter. Using a rubber spatula, stir in the flour. The crumb topping will be thick and crumbly. Set aside.
Preheat oven to 425°F. Spray a 12-count muffin pan with nonstick spray or line with cupcake liners.
Muffins: Beat the butter and both sugars together on high speed until smooth and creamy, about 2 minutes. Add the eggs, yogurt, and vanilla extract. Beat on medium speed for 1 minute, then turn up to high speed until the mixture is combined and uniform in texture.
Whisk the flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt together in a medium bowl. Pour the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, add the milk and apple, and mix on low speed until everything is combined.
Spoon the batter evenly into each cup or liner, filling each all the way to the top. Press a handful of the crumb topping into the top of each; crumble it with your hands to make some big chunks.
Bake for 5 minutes at 425°F (218°C) degrees, then keeping the muffins in the oven, lower the oven temperature to 350°F (177°C) and bake for 15-17 more minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The total time these muffins take in the oven is about 20-22 minutes.
Glaze: whisk all of the ingredients together and drizzle over warm muffins.
About the Author
Rachael Stapleton lives in a Second-Empire Victorian home with her husband and two children in Canada where she dashes about aged wood, arched dormers and snowy hills, making up holiday themed whodunit stories.
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Time Traveling Bibliophile Series
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