Whispering Walls & Murder
Jenna St. James
Copyright © 2020 by Jenna St. James.
Published by Jenna St. James
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Jenna St. James Books
Ryli Sinclair Mystery Series (cozy)
Picture Perfect Murder Bachelorettes and Bodies
Girls’ Night Out Murder Rings, Veils, and Murder
Old-Fashioned Murder Next Stop Murder
Bed, Breakfast & Murder Gold, Frankincense & a Merry Murder
Veiled in Murder Heartache, Hustle, & Homicide
Sullivan Sisters Mystery Series (cozy)
Murder on the Vine Flames, Frames, & Murder
Burning Hot Murder Playing Tricks on Murder
PrePEAR to Die Whispering Walls & Murder
Tea Leaves, Jealousy, & Murder
Copper Cove Mystery Series (cozy)
Seaside & Homicide
Merriment & Murder
A Witch in Time Series (paranormal)
Time After Time
Runaway Bride Time (novella)
Toy Time Tragedy (novella)
A Trinity Falls Series (romantic comedy)
Blazing Trouble
Cougar Trouble
Arrested Trouble
Dedication
First and foremost to my Gramps, Frank Mills, WWII Navy Fireman First Class veteran, a prolific homebuilder in the San Francisco Bay Area, and a loving family man. His love for the Duke, John Wayne, was unparalleled. Without him and his love for life…this series would not be possible. He and his ornery antics are sorely missed.
Special thanks to my proofreaders! During this time of mandatory quarantine by the government, stress levels are high with all the uncertainty…and these women stepped up and dedicated their time and talent. Thank you all so much.
Chapter 1
“Is it true?” I shut the front door of Gone with the Whiskey, the bookstore and bar I owned with my Gramps. “Are you really going to be the interim mayor for Traveler’s Bay?”
Gramps looked up from behind the bar and grinned. “Sure am. The city council approached me this morning and asked me to step in until the position can be filled at the next election.”
Two weeks ago, Mayor Fillmore had stepped down from his position as mayor when his wife was murdered. He’d collapsed when he heard the devastating news, and he hadn’t been in the public eye since.
“Why you?” Waving to a couple of our regular customers, I took a dog treat out of my jean’s pocket and tossed it to Gramps’ bulldog, Duke. He gobbled it up and then ambled over to plop down where Mom and Tillie sat on barstools.
“Why not me?” Gramps countered back. “Need I remind you, Jaycee Sullivan, I retired as a Colonel from the United States Army, I’ve lived in Traveler’s Bay for a good many years, and I’m a prominent business owner in this town?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. Let me guess…no one else wanted the job?”
Gramps laughed and threw the dishtowel in his hand at me. “Better watch that smart mouth of yours, girl.”
I caught the towel and tossed it back at him.
“I think it’s wonderful the Colonel is stepping up and doing his civic duty,” Tillie said. “Makes me so proud to be his wife.”
Because I didn’t want Gramps to literally whip my butt in public, I gritted my teeth and barely suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at Tillie’s sappy words. Gramps and Tillie were still in the honeymoon phase of their marriage, having tied the knot a little over a month ago. She thought everything Gramps did was wonderful.
Tillie Novak-Flynn was a card-carrying hippie who loved flowy dresses, bangled jewelry, and my tough-as-nails Gramps. She was a retired contortionist and trapeze artist who somehow managed to sweep my stalwart Gramps off his feet.
“You still need me to close for you tonight?” Gramps asked.
“If you don’t mind,” I said. “This is the first night Jax and I have had free to try and work on the carriage house.”
The same night the mayor’s wife had died, my little sister, Jax, had been stabbed and left for dead. While recovering in the hospital, her boyfriend, Trevor, had proposed to her. And if that wasn’t enough, Tillie had given Jax and me the keys to her house so she and Gramps could move back in with Mom, and Jax and I could start the next phase of our lives together. Jax and I currently lived in Mom’s remodeled attic, and while adequate, it would be nice to have our own rooms instead of just a privacy screen.
Not only was Tillie’s house—now our house—just a couple doors down from Mom’s place and huge enough to handle Jax, Trevor, Mike, and me easily…but it also had a newly upgraded carriage house in the backyard.
Last week when Officer Landry and his roommate, fireman Josh Zimmer, came over to see the new place, they toured the thousand square foot carriage house and asked what our plans were for it. Until then, we hadn’t really given it any thought.
One thing about Traveler’s Bay, it’s a great tourist town, but there’s not a lot of affordable housing. Like Mike and Trevor, Landry and Zimmer also rented a run-down place. After a lot of discussion, Jax and I agreed it would make financial sense for us to rent the carriage house out to Landry Zimmer. We didn’t really need it for anything, and it was too beautiful to just sit and not be used.
Traveler’s Bay was located in Sonoma County and was situated amid redwood and sequoia trees, myriad wineries and spas, the Pacific Ocean, and the Russian River. The bulk of the town lay between Hwy 116 and Hwy 1, and meandered along the curved streets carved out of the tall hills. A lot to see and do, but not a lot of affordable California living options.
“What do you need to do to the carriage house?” Mom asked. “It already looks amazing.”
“Jax and I want to see about putting a half bath under the staircase since there’s no bathroom on the ground floor,” I said. “Just a toilet and sink kind of thing. Trevor already looked at it, and he said we’d need to knock down the false wall to open it up. In fact, he said he doesn’t understand why the wall is even there. It cuts off useable space.”
“Why would someone do that, I wonder?” Mom asked.
I shrugged. “Beats me. So our plans are to knock down the false wall, clean it all out, and have Trevor put in a half bath.”
“Maybe Tillie and I will stop by and help,” Mom said. “Would that be okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “The more the merrier.”
“How about until then,” Gramps grumbled, “you get your merrier little butt out there on that floor and see if any of the customers need new drinks.”
Grinning, I tied an apron around my middle, picked up an order pad, and set out to do just that. Most of the drinks and boozy desserts at Gone with the Whiskey were drinks I made up and desserts Jax created. We had drinks like Tequila Mockingbird, Turn of the Screwdriver, and Hobbit Hotscotch. For Halloween, I’d put my own spin on a drink from The Legend of Sleepy Hallow…the Ichabod Cranium. A shot drink that looked like a brain floating in formaldehyde.
After waiting on a couple customers, I went back to the counter where Mom and Tillie were still gathered and hopped up onto the stool beside Mom.
“You still on track to do your brunch thing the first of December?” Tillie asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I still have a couple big items needing to be shipped, but they should be here in plenty of time.”
> Jax and I had recently decided—because Gramps couldn’t care less—that we’d open Gone with the Whiskey early on the first Sunday of the month and serve a buffet-style meal, complete with boozy drinks, and then finish with excerpt readings. Patrons could mark their favorite passage from a book and read it aloud to everyone, or they could choose to write their own passage.
I’d gotten a great deal on one of those fancy flip-style Belgian waffle makers, so people could make their own waffles and then choose from toppings like powdered sugar, homemade whipped cream, or assorted fruits and honey to arrange on top. Jax would supply homemade muffins in three different flavors, while Mom and Tillie volunteered to make breakfast casseroles in their crockpots. I would serve up mimosas and Irish coffee, along with a couple non-alcoholic drinks people could choose from.
“I’ve already selected my passage to read in December,” Mom said. “I think it’s going to be so much fun.”
“Let me guess,” I said dryly, “it’s a passage from one of Andrew’s books?”
Mom had been seeing best-selling author Andrew Tipton for a few months now. They’d dated briefly in high school, but it ended badly—like Gramps put his foot down and Andrew ended up in jail for a short period of time—badly. But it worked out in the end…Andrew became a top profiler for the FBI, and Mom went on to marry my dad and have me and Jax. Now they were back together.
“For your information, no it’s not.” Mom took a sip of her drink. “And just for that, I’m not telling you which book it is. You’ll have to wait and find out.”
Laughing, I asked Gramps for a ginger ale. Adding a wedge of orange and a couple cherries from the condiments platter, I picked up the glass and took a sip. “You’re right, Mom. I guess that’ll teach me for being ornery.”
“On that note,” Gramps said, “the new interim mayor and his bride are out of here. Tillie and I are going to spend the afternoon at Bodega Bay, grab a bite to eat, watch the waves roll in, then be back here around five to relieve you, Jaycee.”
“Appreciate it, Gramps. Are you going to Fisherman’s Cove to eat?”
“Always,” he said.
I tilted my head and batted my lashes at him. “You’re the best Gramps in the whole wide world.”
He snorted. “Good try. But I’m not carting you back smelly clam chowder in my Hummer.”
Chapter 2
“Will Officer Landry and his roommate move in around December first like Trevor and Mike?” Mom asked.
I gently plunked the weighty sledgehammer down in front of the staircase. “Sort of. They went ahead and gave their thirty-day notice like Trevor and Mike did, and since this place is pretty much ready to move in, they’re going to go ahead and get the bulk of their stuff in as soon as possible. Unfortunately, they still had to finish paying out the month at their other place. But they should be totally moved in right before Christmas.”
Tillie and Jax breezed through the front door of the carriage house laughing and carrying a bottle of wine and four glasses.
“We’ve come bearing gifts,” Tillie sang out as she closed the door with her foot. “Figured we might as well have a little fun while we make a little mess.”
I walked over to the closet door under the staircase and yanked it open, exposing the cramped space underneath. Depth-wise, it was about four feet, which was spacious. However, length-wise it was only about three feet. Trevor said he believed the space should follow the length of the staircase. So if he was right, and there was a ton of space behind the shabbily erected wall, then the room would make a nice half bath.
“I still can’t believe someone would purposely cut off usable storage space.” Jax handed me a glass of red wine. “Trevor said whoever did it was either in a hurry or had no idea what they were doing. The wall’s out of plumb, there’s buildup on the drywall joints, and he said he could make out the tape which is why the wall has that bumpy look.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Look at you using all those big construction terms.”
Jax stuck her tongue out at me and then we both dissolved into giggles.
“I’ve been here a little over six months,” Tillie said. “And it was like this when I moved in. I never thought anything about it.”
“The actress who owned the home did the renovations about—oh, I guess it’s been three or four years ago.” Mom walked over and stood next to me to peer inside. “Then about two years ago she just stopped coming to Traveler’s Bay.”
“And when she did come back during her heyday,” I said, “I doubt she came out to the carriage house very often.”
“Yeah,” Jax agreed. “She probably made her chauffeur or fashion expert or media representative sleep out here.”
“Are those last two even real jobs?” I asked.
Jax laughed. “I have no idea, but it sounded plausible.”
Jax and I had both been gone from Traveler’s Bay when the semi-famous actress, Margo Maples, had owned and visited the house. When her career stalled a few years back, she pretty much stopped coming to Traveler’s Bay altogether. She’d still owned the house, but it had basically sat vacant. Mom and Gramps and the rest of the neighborhood tried their best to watch over and make sure the big house was safe—plus it was heavily alarmed—and that was enough of a deterrent. But every now and again kids had gotten into the carriage house to party and the cops had to be called.
Jax leaned her head against my shoulder and stared inside the small dark closet. “Trevor also gave me the guy response that we could probably just punch our fists through the false wall since it’s just sheetrock and pull it down, but I don’t think we’ll go that route.”
I laughed. “Heck no. I want to use the sledgehammer.”
“I’m not even sure how you’re going to lift and swing that thing inside there,” Mom said. “There’s not enough room.”
I grinned. “Oh, I can do it. Trust me.”
“Before we get started,” Tillie said. “I think we should make a toast.”
“You’re right,” Mom said.
The four of us lifted our glasses in the air.
“To three of the most amazing women I’ve had the privilege to know,” Tillie said. “I’m so glad you entered my life.”
“Aww,” we said simultaneously.
“My turn.” Mom cleared her throat. “To my two amazing girls who are about to become wives, and maybe even someday moms…you two have always made me proud to be your mother. Your father would be so proud of both you girls too. It thrills my heart to know you two have each found a love unique to yourselves. Mike and Trevor are truly lucky men.”
“Now that you’ve made us cry,” I said, “maybe I can try and lighten the mood.”
“Please do,” Jax said.
“Okay. I’ll make it quick because my arm is getting tired holding up the glass. Thank you, Tillie, for gifting Jax and me with your home…now our home. Thank you for befriending Mom, and even more amazingly, thank you for loving our cranky Gramps. You’ve made him so happy these last few months. Something he hasn’t been since grandma died. Thank you for that.”
“I second that.” Jax clinked her glass to mine, and then we each took turns clinking glasses and drinking.
“Is this the cabernet from Plentiful Grapes?” I asked.
“Sure is,” Tillie said.
My first dead body and murder investigation I’d stumbled upon back in June had been at Plentiful Grapes Winery. It was also my first introduction to Detective Mike Connors, my hunky fiancé.
When the glasses were empty, Mom gathered them up and carried them into the kitchen, which was located on the ground floor. The carriage house had two entrances—the front door or through the two-car garage. The ground floor consisted of a cozy living room and kitchen with an alcove barely big enough for a table. Upstairs were two bedrooms and one bathroom. It was small—which the guys didn’t seem to mind—but it packed a punch because of the ornate beauty inside.
Margo had spared no expense in upgrading the carriage
house. White brick lined all three walls in the living room, while white cabinets with bronze drawer pulls and a bronze faucet accented the kitchen. A black stainless-steel gas stove and refrigerator dominated the small interior of the kitchen, but since it opened straight into the living room and only had three walls, it really wasn’t too overpowering. The hardwood floor covered the whole ground level, including the front-door entrance that opened to the stairs that led to the second floor.
“Are we ready to open this space up and see what we can do with it?” I asked, picking up the sledgehammer.
Jax clapped and bounced on her toes. “Let’s do this!”
“Wait!” Mom cried. “Jaycee Sullivan, you put your safety goggles on right now before you destroy that wall. Safety first!”
Rolling my eyes, I bent down and yanked the clear safety glasses Trevor had given Jax off the floor and pushed them onto my face. “Better?”
Jax giggled, but Mom and Tillie both nodded.
“Now you may go forth and destroy,” Mom said.
Grinning, I picked up the sledgehammer and waddled inside the closet. Lifting the hammer to my shoulders, I paused…and nearly toppled backward from the weight! “Might be a little heavier than I thought.”
I could hear myself panting.
Jax snorted. “Need me to do it, big sis?”
“Stand back,” I huffed. “Let the oldest take care of it.”
All three women took a step backward from the closet door, and it was all I could do not to explode into giggles. I must really look a fright if they actually did what I requested. Tightening my resolve—and my grip on the handle—I took a small step forward and brought the sledgehammer down into the drywall.
Or I guess I should say through the drywall.
Stumbling forward from the momentum and weight of the sledgehammer, I crashed through the wall and fell onto my hands and knees. Pain flooded my whole body. I could hear screaming and yelling behind me as Mom, Tillie, and Jax crammed themselves inside the closet and started tearing through the drywall with their hands.
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