No Cone Unturned (Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery Book 12)

by Chelsea Thomas

  No Cone Unturned

  Chelsea Thomas

  Contents

  1. Jersey Dreams

  2. Teeny Screams for Ice Cream

  3. Todd the Toddler

  4. Cold Shoulder

  5. Toddling to Todd’s

  6. Who, What, Wear

  7. Business is Dead

  8. Date Drama

  9. Cookies and Screams

  10. Take it on the Run

  11. Café au Murder

  12. No Cones About It

  13. Anna Kournikova

  14. A Wolf in Russian Sheep’s Clothing

  15. Hello, It’s Me

  16. Furrocious Friends

  17. Going, Going, Dog

  18. Doggone It

  19. Soup’s On

  20. Dog Days of Spring

  21. Wriggly Gigley

  22. Farm to Table

  23. Russian to Conclusions

  24. Home Improvement

  25. Family Feud

  26. Every Vote Matters

  27. The Village People

  28. Closely Guarded Secrets

  29. Good Ethel Hunting

  30. Rainy Realizations

  31. Hungry Hungry Sumo

  32. Leafing Through Clues

  33. Wok-ing and Wayne-ing

  34. Zach Tracks

  35. Ex-Zach-ting Revenge

  36. Mission: Kimpossible

  37. Double Jeopardy

  38. Calling for Help

  39. A Bronx Tale

  40. Deader than Dead

  41. Framework

  42. Vacationer

  43. Hide and Seek

  44. Hunting the Hunter

  45. Winner, Winner Teeny Dinner

  1

  Jersey Dreams

  I’m going to tell you about a crazy argument I witnessed. There was screaming, there was banging, there were people throwing things, the whole works.

  The crazy thing is that the argument took place at The Cherry On Top, a cute little ice cream shop in downtown Pine Grove.

  I used to think nothing bad ever happened at ice cream parlors.

  But in Pine Grove, mystery, intrigue and yes, sometimes violence, tended to work their way into the cuteness. Trust me. I know.

  My aunt Miss May and I had solved enough murders — with the help of our friend Teeny — to be experts in detection, investigation, and the apprehension of criminals. And we were well aware that darkness lurked in the least expected places... and people.

  On the morning of the big ice cream shop debacle, I woke up thinking about my crummy old apartment in Jersey City, NJ. I’m not sure where the memories came from, but there was a flood of them. So detailed and specific.

  In my mind’s eye, I could see every piece of peeling paint on the walls. I could hear the neighbors’ TV blasting re-runs of old cartoons. And I could remember every mustard stain on the ratty sweatshirt I wore each day.

  You might already know how I ended up in Jersey City, so I’ll keep this short.

  Let’s see, how should I put this?

  My fiancé left me at the altar in front of everyone we knew. Then, I found out he had stolen our interior design business and left me broke. So I moved from our shared Manhattan apartment to the aforementioned crummy Jersey City pad, buried myself in lo mein, and wallowed for months on end.

  Lucky for me, Miss May wasn’t one to stand around and watch her favorite niece wallow. Even if delicious Chinese food was involved.

  I’ll never forget the day Miss May arrived in Jersey City and convinced me to move back up to the family orchard to work with her.

  Miss May had raised me after my parents died. So I knew the orchard well and I loved it there. But I was also in love with my life in the city. More than anything, I wanted to cling onto my delusional dream of a happy life with Mike, living in the West Village, running our interior design business, and drinking fancy coffee.

  I’d argued with Miss May and pretended I loved my life in Jersey City. But Miss May was a retired NYC prosecutor. She saw every angle, she was never outsmarted, and she convinced me to leave with her in under an hour.

  Anyway, as soon as memories of my sad little Jersey City life barged into my mind on that March morning, I knew I had no hope of returning to sleep. So I jumped out of bed, stepped into my slippers, and headed off to start my day.

  Miss May handed me a big cup of coffee as soon as I entered the kitchen. “Fresh, strong coffee.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Is it too strong? I don’t like too strong.”

  “Did I say strong? I meant light. Lots of cream. Tons of sugar. Melted a whole lollipop at the bottom.”

  Steve the Dog trotted into the kitchen and stopped by my side. I gave him a nice little pat and he wagged his tail. “That sounds like a delicious beverage, doesn’t it, Steve?”

  Steve looked up at me with his big, brown eyes like I was the Dalai Lama. I laughed. “Love you too, buddy.”

  I sat at the big, oak kitchen table with my coffee and took a sip. It was great. Creamy and just a little sweet. The sip warmed my whole body and brought a smile to my face. “You made it perfect.”

  “Imagine that. You’ve been back home for over a year and I’ve managed to figure out how you like your coffee.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Maybe I’m a touch spoiled.”

  “Hey, you spoil me too,” said Miss May. “Every three days I’ve got some new Amazon box you ordered for me.”

  “One day delivery is too good to pass up. How’d you like that tongue scraper, by the way?”

  “It hurts!” Miss May furrowed her brow. “Why’d you order that, anyway? You think I have bad breath? Trying to tell me something?”

  “I think we both have bad breath in the morning. And there was a two for one deal.”

  Miss May laughed. I took another sip of coffee. “So what’s on the agenda today?”

  “Not much. Christmas trees are busy growing for next year. So are the apples. We got in an order for a dozen pies at the bake shop, but those aren’t needed for a few days.”

  “So we have a day off?”

  “We have an unseasonably warm day off.” Miss May smirked. “I was thinking we could walk the property. Work up a sweat. Work up an appetite. Then go to Cherry on Top and pound back some Almond Mocha Fudge.”

  “Daring Double Chocolate for me,” I said. “And you know it doesn’t take much to make me sweat.”

  “Fine,” said Miss May. “I’ll work up a sweat. And you will exist with your unnatural amount of sweatiness that you for some reason never stop talking about.”

  “Thank you. Is Teeny meeting us at the ice cream shop?”

  “I think she bought a cot, moved into the little room where the toppings are kept and started eating sprinkles for every meal.”

  I laughed.

  “She’s meeting us at three,” said Miss May. “And you better be easy around her today. She’s all worked up about that Best in Pine Grove vote.”

  “Oh yeah! Grandma’s is up for top restaurant, right?”

  Miss May nodded. “One week left until all the votes are tallied. You know Teeny. She wants her place to win so bad her hair’s falling out.”

  “Ice cream should help calm her nerves,” I said.

  “Nothing calms her nerves.” Miss May took a sip of my coffee. “But ice cream will at least distract her.”

  Miss May plodded across the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. I wrapped my hands around my coffee and smiled. I loved walking around the orchard with Miss May and Steve the dog. And I really, really loved ice cream.

  I thought it was going to b
e a good day. But at that point I had no idea about the horrible argument we would witness at the Cherry On Top. Had I known, I would have been filled with dread and fear. And maybe anger.

  So I was lucky to have that moment of peace. Because all of Pine Grove was about to be turned upside down.

  2

  Teeny Screams for Ice Cream

  Cherry on Top was a cute storefront right in Pine Grove’s downtown. The façade of the building was painted white and there was a red and white striped awning out front. And a shingle hung off the front door that said “Fresh Ice Cream, Handmade Every Day.”

  The little ice cream shop was one half of a two unit commercial complex. The second unit in the complex sat vacant with a “For Rent” sign in the window. As we pulled up, my mind raced with ideas for little businesses that might thrive in that spot.

  “I can’t believe someone hasn’t rented that other unit yet,” I said. “It would make the most adorable yarn shop. Or maybe it could be a little free library. Or a coffee shop! Or a record store.”

  “The place has tons of potential,” said Miss May. “I agree. It’s weird that it hasn’t been scooped up yet. Pardon my ice cream pun, but that rental must be even more attractive now that a successful ice cream shop has moved in next door.”

  “You never have to excuse a good pun around me,” I said. “And you’re right. Emily’s done a great job getting the word out about her ice cream.”

  “It is easy to get the word out when your customers never stop talking about how good your product is.”

  I chuckled. “And I suppose it’s easy to be successful when those customers visit your shop every single day, sometimes twice a day.”

  Miss May and I were both talking about Cherry on Top’s biggest fan, Teeny, who was standing out in the parking lot waiting for us. We pulled into the spot beside Teeny and she gave us a big, excited wave.

  “You’re finally here! I’ve been waiting forever. I need my ice cream. I’m a nervous wreck.”

  “Are you telling me you haven’t already gotten a scoop?” Miss May said as she climbed out of the car. “You haven’t tasted a single sprinkle today?”

  “Fine. I asked Emily for a small cup of sprinkles and she gave them to me. They were pink and delicious and I don’t regret them at all. But that didn’t satisfy my urge for ice cream. I want three scoops of peanut butter with pink sprinkles and whipped cream. Oh. And a cherry on top, of course.”

  “Don’t tell your order to me,” said Miss May. “Let’s go inside and tell Emily.”

  “That may be a problem,” said Teeny, wringing her hands. “There’s a sweaty man inside the ice cream shop. Greasy and disgusting. Gross black baseball cap. Stinky breath. He could use one of those scrapers Chelsea got you. Looks like the type of guy that would run you over with a rusty old two-door and leave you for dead on the street. Or mug a little old lady for a couple extra bucks.”

  “And he’s inside getting ice cream in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday? Doesn’t sound like the type.” Miss May bit her bottom lip. “Although I suppose everyone’s the ice cream type. Even the sweaty, gross ones. Chelsea?”

  “Are you asking if I’m sweaty and gross?!”

  “No, I’m asking if you agree with me,” Miss May said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Even creepsters love ice cream. And Emily’s is the best. I love how she keeps every flavor at the perfect temperature. It’s never too hard and it’s never too melty. And the consistency is like bubblegum or something. It sticks to my spoon when I dig in and I have to yank it out. You know what, why am I talking about this? Can we go inside and order?”

  “Works for me,” said Teeny. “But first I need both you and Miss May to promise that you already voted for me for the Best in Pine Grove contest.”

  “Of course we both voted,” said Miss May.

  “I tried to vote more than once but the system locked me out,” I said.

  Teeny wrapped me up in a big, tight hug. “You’re the best, Chelsea. I can always count on you to bend the rules for a good friend.”

  Miss May chuckled. “I don’t know if committing voter fraud counts as ‘bending the rules,’ but OK.”

  “Bend ‘em, break ‘em. Who cares? Victory will be mine!” Teeny smiled, then pushed open the door to the ice cream shop like she was conquering a new land. Miss May and I followed close behind, laughing. But our laughter faded when we encountered the sweaty, gross, mugger Teeny had described.

  The man was somehow worse than Teeny had let on. He must have been four hundred pounds. He wore a big, stained T-shirt and sweatpants with holes in them. And he had the dirtiest black cap I’d ever seen.

  Worst of all he was yelling at Emily, the owner of the shop, at the top of his lungs.

  “I’m opening my establishment in less than a week. It’s a serious place of business. You can’t keep blasting your silly pop music through the outdoor speakers. That’s a shared space and I won’t have it.”

  Emily held up her hands, presumably to show the man she meant no harm. Her usually red cheeks were extra flush and her voice was shaky. “I understand, sir. I don’t want to hurt your business. It’s good for the town that something new is opening up. But my customers enjoy the music. It’s part of the experience. Maybe there’s some way we can compromise. What kind of music do you like?”

  “I don’t like music. I like money, and I like my parents’ snapping turtle, Regis. And I like capitalism. And I like dogs. And I like comfortable clothing. Action movies please me. Dancing is something I hate. I never see a reason to smile. And I also like barbecue. Both the American and the Mongolian variety. I hate this ice cream. Not a fan of it. At all.”

  Emily blinked a few times, looking confused. “OK. That was an interesting list.”

  “Don’t call me interesting. Just do what I want.”

  Miss May approached the counter and spoke in her calmest voice. “Sir. Hi. How are you today?”

  “I would be better if this ice cream shop sold Mongolian barbecue and didn’t play horrible music from shared speakers in the outdoor space.”

  “I see. What’s your name?”

  “Todd,” the man growled.

  “Todd. What a…beautiful name,” Miss May said. “My name is Miss May. These are my friends, Chelsea and Teeny. And the owner of this shop, Emily, is my friend as well. Do you think you could stop yelling at her? Emily is reasonable and I’m sure the two of you can work something out.”

  “That’s right.” Emily offered a small smile. “I’m happy to have a neighbor.”

  Teeny approached the counter. “Are you two kidding me? This guy’s out of his mind. He’s screaming like he owns the place. And he’s delaying my ice cream.”

  Miss May gritted her teeth. “Teeny. I’m trying to broker peace here.”

  “Peace is overrated,” said Todd.

  “I agree,” said Teeny. “Who needs peace? Wait. No. I’m not agreeing with this guy. That means you must be right, May. Sorry. I’ll stop talking.”

  “Can I continue with my demands?” said Todd.

  “Let’s call them requests instead of demands,” said Miss May.

  “I demand two parking spots. I demand that the ice cream shop moves its outside tables off of my patio space. And I demand no music. That’s final!” Todd banged on the counter to make his point. The cash register rattled with the force of his fist.

  “Emily’s ice cream shop gets busy on the weekends,” I said. “Will your business be open on weekends or can Emily have more spots on Saturday and Sunday?”

  “I want two spots. Twenty-four-seven.”

  “Right,” I said. “What type of business did you say you’re opening?”

  “Bail bonds. Payday loans. Quick and easy lending.”

  “You mean predatory lending.” Teeny shook her head. “Your whole vibe is starting to make sense now.”

  The man threw back his head and laughed. “Predatory lending is my favorite phrase. You’re exactly
right. I’m opening an establishment featuring predatory loans. Because I’m the predator, and all you people are my prey. ‘Cuz I’m at the top of the food chain.”

  The man turned back to Emily, grabbed a cone off the counter and crushed it in his hands. He didn’t look away from Emily as the crumbs fell on the floor. Then he licked his fingers and leaned in real close to her face.

  “Meet my demands, or I’ll do more than crush a single ice cream cone. I’ll destroy this cute little shop, all the way from the cherry on top to the cherry on bottom.”

  3

  Todd the Toddler

  My heart twinged a tiny bit when Emily gave in to Todd’s demands. But the guy was terrifying, so I also understood.

  You can’t be on horrible terms with your neighbors. And maybe Emily figured she would be able to talk a little sense into Todd down the line, after things cooled down.

  Todd didn’t even say thank you after Emily gave in. Nor did he apologize for insulting her ice cream or her store or anything like that. He just gave Emily a firm nod, turned on his heels, and stormed out.

  Emily grabbed the edges of the counter and let out a shaky exhale as Todd exited. Miss May put her hand on Emily’s hand. “Are you OK? That was a lot.”

  Emily nodded. “I’m fine. That’s business. Things can get cutthroat.”

  “I suppose,” said Miss May. “But this is a small town ice cream shop not a hedge fund. Business owners are supposed to support each other in small towns. That’s one of the unspoken rules.”