The Bitter With The Sweet

by J A Whiting

  The Bitter with the Sweet

  A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 15

  J. A. Whiting

  Copyright 2018 J.A. Whiting

  Cover copyright 2018 Susan Coils at www.coverkicks.com

  Formatting by Signifer Book Design

  Proofreading by Donna Rich

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from J. A. Whiting.

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  www.jawhitingbooks.com

  Created with Vellum

  For my family with love

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Thank you for reading! Recipes below!

  Books/Series By J. A. Whiting

  About the Author

  Some Recipes From The Sweet Cove Series

  Summer Lemon Berry Cake

  Easy Everything-Brownies

  Sugar Cookies

  Raspberry Cooler Cake

  1

  Angie Roseland carried four boxes of baked goods while Mr. Finch held open the door to the Pirate’s Den restaurant on the main street of the little seaside town of Sweet Cove. Finch balanced his cane in one hand and a bag of fudge in the other.

  The owner, Bessie Lindquist, hurried over to take two boxes from the load Angie was carrying. “Morning. Thank heavens you could bring extra desserts. We’ve been flat out busy. Busier than ever for this time of year. I don’t know what secret ingredients you put in these sweets, but the customers clamor for them.” Bessie was a short, petite woman who had owned the restaurant with her husband for over twenty years.

  “Morning, Angie … Mr. Finch.” Bessie’s husband, Art, came out from the kitchen to help with the boxes. “You’re looking fine,” he told Angie. “Married life must agree with you.”

  When Angie chuckled, her blue eyes sparkled. “I’m a lucky woman.”

  “And that Josh Williams is a very lucky man. His waistband is going to increase in size with a talented baker for a wife and two candy store owners in the family.” Art took the bag from Finch. “This fudge from your candy store is a big hit. We’ve been putting a piece on the plate whenever we serve the fresh fruit for dessert.”

  “How’s Josh doing?” Bessie asked.

  “He’s healing well. Almost back to normal,” Angie told them. Josh had been injured while rescuing an older man and woman from a burning house and he’d nearly lost his life by racing into the inferno to save them.

  “Just a bit of a limp remaining in one of his legs.” Mr. Finch smiled and lifted his cane. “Josh is in good company.”

  “That he is,” Bessie agreed. “Do you two have time for some coffee?”

  “Afraid not.” Angie handed off the remaining boxes to the restaurant owner. “We’ve got a few more deliveries to make and then I need to get back to the bake shop.”

  “I heard the museum has asked you to consider creating a satellite bake shop on the premises,” Bessie said. “It sounds like a great opportunity to expand.”

  “It is.” Angie placed the receipt for the baked goods on the counter so Bessie could sign it. “I’m just not sure if now is the right time.”

  “Give it some thought,” Bessie said. “It might not be something you want to pass up. Heck, we wish the museum invited us to put a small Pirate’s Den inside the place.”

  After a little more chat, Finch and Angie left the restaurant and got back into the van to finish making the deliveries.

  “News travels fast,” Angie said.

  “Indeed, it does. The whole town must know by now about the museum’s offer to you.” Finch leaned on his cane as he stepped into the passenger seat.

  “What do you think of the offer?” Angie asked the man. “I don’t want to spread myself too thin and it wasn’t long ago I promoted Louisa to assistant manager of the bake shop.”

  “Louisa is a smart woman and an excellent worker,” Finch said. “She can handle the new responsibilities with ease which will give you time to open the new place without worries.”

  Angie nodded as she pulled the van away from the curb. “It’s true. I don’t know why I’m not jumping at this. I want to expand, but something is making me hesitate.”

  Finch glanced at the young woman. “Do you sense something?”

  Letting out a long sigh, Angie’s shoulders drooped. “I wish I didn’t, but I do. I haven’t brought it up because I hoped it would go away.” Taking a quick look at Finch, she asked, “Do you feel it?”

  Mr. Finch adjusted his black framed glasses. “It’s been floating on the air the past two days. I don’t think it’s something we’ll be able to avoid.”

  Angie let out a soft groan. “Never a dull moment.”

  “Don’t let whatever is about to happen stop you from expanding the bake shop to a new location, Miss Angie. We are together and we will give you the help you need.”

  Angie’s lips turned up in a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, my sisters, and Josh.”

  “And Tom and Jack and Rufus,” Finch added the names to the list of family and friends. “Not to mention the two fine felines.”

  Turning the steering wheel to make a turn onto a street running off of Main, Angie shook her head with a smile. “I should have put Euclid and Circe at the very top of the list.”

  The van stopped at the end of the driveway to Room and Board, the Sweet Cove boarding house run for the past fifteen years by Maribeth Perkins, a tall, thin, woman in her mid-sixties with short blond hair. Places like the boarding house, although common in the nineteenth century, were few and far between now. The large house allowed renters to lease a suite of rooms and have access to the common areas … the kitchen, living room, and sunroom. It was distinct from a bed and breakfast as the residents rented long-term, some for months at a time and others for years.

  It was a popular place for medical and graduate students to live as well as a few single women and men and several elderly. A big porch stretched across the front of the house and there were gardens in the backyard along with shade trees and different places to sit. A sweeping veranda on the left side of the house provided spectacular views of the cliffs and ocean beyond. Breakfast was served every morning as part of the rental fee and on Wednesday evenings Maribeth prepared dinner for the residents to enjoy together. The woman had contracted with Angie to provide breakfast breads and muffins and some desserts.

  Mr. Finch leaned on his cane while Angie checked the boxes for the ones going to the boarding house. Handing a brown dessert box to Finch, the young woman gathered two more and shut the hatch. Before starting for the house, Angie paused as a rush of adrenaline raced through her body preventing her from advancing.

  “Miss Angie?�
� Finch asked with concern after seeing the expression on her face.

  Angie shook herself and forced a smile. “I … I don’t know. I felt funny for a second.”

  She and Finch started for the walkway to the front of the house when the door flew open and Maribeth hurried onto the porch with a wild look in her eyes.

  When she noticed the two people coming up the walk, she yelled to them. “Help me! Please hurry!”

  Angie jogged ahead as Finch dashed for the steps, his limp more evident as his pace quickened.

  “What’s wrong?” Angie asked.

  “Inside. One of the boarders.” Maribeth’s hand pressed against her chest. “Oh. I need to call emergency. We need an ambulance.” The woman’s face was ghostly pale and her flustered behavior suggested she might be in a state of shock.

  “Tell me what happened.” Angie tried to get Maribeth to describe the emergency. “Shall we go in? Who needs help?”

  Mr. Finch didn’t wait for an explanation, instead opening the door and stepping into the foyer of the big house. “Hello? Can I be of help?”

  Maribeth hurried inside with Angie at her heels.

  “He can’t answer you, Mr. Finch. Perry is unconscious.” Maribeth wrung her hands.

  “Show us,” Angie’s voice was firm.

  Maribeth stumbled through the house to the back hallway and entered one of the boarder’s rooms. Covered with a light blanket, the man lay on his back in his bed near the window wearing a t-shirt. His head rested on his pillow. He looked peaceful as if he was sound asleep and dreaming.

  Standing just inside the threshold, Maribeth gestured and whispered. “He won’t wake up.”

  Angie stepped quickly to the bed and touched the young man’s neck in an attempt to find a heartbeat. The skin was cold and pearly white. “Did you call 911?”

  Maribeth seemed not to understand the question.

  “What’s going on?” An older man in slacks and a pressed shirt appeared at the door. “What’s happened to Perry? Is he ill?”

  Finch took out his phone and placed the emergency call while Angie began chest compressions on the man lying in the bed.

  A young woman, her hair a mass of long, auburn curls, poked her head into the room. “What’s going on? What’s happened?” She went to Angie’s side and the two took turns doing the compressions.

  Before long, the medical personnel arrived, were ushered into the house by a resident, and began to work on the man in the bed as Angie and the auburn-haired woman stepped back. Perspiration glistened on Angie’s forehead from anxiety and the exertion of trying to get the man’s heart started.

  A police officer entered the bedroom and hurriedly asked everyone to assemble in the living room of the house.

  “I don’t think Perry’s going to make it,” the auburn-haired woman told Angie with trembling words. As they filed down the hall, she lowered her voice and added, “I think he’s already dead.”

  Angie had the same impression. “Do you live here?”

  “My rooms are across from Perry’s.”

  “You knew the young man?”

  Tears fell from the woman’s eyes. “His name is Perry Wildwood. He’s a med student at the university.” The woman extended her hand to shake. “I’m Megan Milton.”

  Mr. Finch stood next to Maribeth trying to comfort the woman. Maribeth swayed a little as she cried and Finch helped her to settle into a comfortable chair. “How did you know the man was ill?” he asked.

  Maribeth sniveled into a tissue. “Perry is always up before this. He needs to be at school early. I knocked on his door. When he didn’t reply, I opened the door and called his name. I thought he’d overslept.”

  Angie, Megan, and the older man who had been with them moved closer to Maribeth to hear her tell what had happened.

  “Did you try to wake him?” Megan asked.

  “Yes.” Maribeth’s eyes seemed unfocused. “I called his name. When he didn’t respond, I went over to the bed to tug on his arm. He felt cold. I….” The woman clutched at her chest. “I got scared. I went out to the porch. I looked for help.” Maribeth glanced up at Finch. “Angie and Mr. Finch. They were in the driveway.”

  “Did you call for an ambulance right away?” the older gentleman asked.

  Maribeth blinked. “I forgot to. How foolish. I panicked.”

  “It happens in situations like this,” Angie tried to reassure her. “People’s minds go blank. The emergency people are here now.”

  Finch made eye contact with Angie and they slipped over to the fireplace away from the others.

  “Do you find this an odd situation?” Finch whispered his question. “A very young man appears to have died in the night with no sign of a struggle. No drug paraphernalia visible. Alone in his room.”

  “That doesn’t mean he was alone all night,” Angie said. “I think we just found out what has been floating on the air picking at us for the past couple of days.”

  “I think we’ll be visiting this boarding house quite often over the coming weeks,” Finch said. “I’d better contact Chief Martin.”

  “No need,” Angie told him. “Here he comes.”

  When Chief Martin entered the foyer and came into the living room, his eyebrows raised when he spotted Finch and Angie together by the fireplace.

  “I’m happy to see you two here. Care to come out to the porch with me and tell me what’s been going on?”

  “If only we knew,” Finch said softly as he and Angie left the house with the chief.

  2

  Standing outside on the wide wraparound porch while the other officers spoke with the owner and residents of the house, Angie and Mr. Finch gave the chief a rundown of what had happened over the last thirty minutes.

  Chief Martin rubbed at the side of his face. “So Maribeth didn’t call in the emergency right away?”

  “She panicked.” Mr. Finch held the top of his cane and gently twirled it under his palm.

  “Hmm.” The chief’s lips were turned down. “Maribeth came out to the porch looking for help? Why didn’t she call on someone who was in the house? There are people living with her.”

  Angie’s eyebrow raised. “Good question. I guess she really did panic and wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “You were both in the young man’s room?” Chief Martin looked at Angie. “You did chest compressions?”

  Nodding Angie said, “My impression was that the man was already dead. His skin was very cool to the touch. There were no signs that he was breathing. I think he died hours before Maribeth found him.”

  “Did either of you feel anything unusual when you were in the room?” the chief asked. Chief Martin was well aware that the four Roseland sisters and Mr. Finch had some extrasensory skills and he called on them to help out from time to time with difficult cases. The chief even had an inkling that the two family cats had some special skills, although no one could actually explain those abilities. “I don’t understand any of it,” the chief would often say, “but I’m more than willing to accept the premise that certain people … and animals … are capable of possessing some higher-level skills that the common person lacks.”

  Finch cleared his throat. “I don’t believe the young man passed away from natural causes.”

  “Is this notion a result of logical reasoning?” the chief asked. “Or from sensing it?”

  “It was something I picked up on when standing in the room,” Finch said.

  “Angie?” The chief looked to the young woman. “Did you sense anything?”

  “Something picked at me. I was rushed trying to revive the man. Maribeth was crying. One of the residents, Megan Milton, came in to help. There were a lot of emotions flying around in there and unfortunately I wasn’t able to focus on them to try and sort them out.”

  “Do I hear a but in your voice?” the chief asked.

  Angie thought back to the experience of finding Perry Wildwood unconscious. “When I approached the man in his bed and started the chest compressio
ns, I … got a tiny whiff of something.”

  “What did it smell like?” Chief Martin took a step closer to Angie who took a few seconds to reply.

  “It was sort of like….” Angie’s nose scrunched up. “Hair spray? Medicine?”

  “Hair spray?” Mr. Finch asked with a puzzled expression.

  “You didn’t smell it?” Angie asked Finch.

  “I did not. I don’t believe I noticed any odors on the air.”

  “Was it on the air in general?” Chief Martin asked. “Or was it coming from the man?”

  One side of Angie’s mouth turned down. “I’m not sure.”

  “Okay.” The chief nodded appreciatively. “Do the two of you have time to stay for a little while? Maybe mingle with the residents. See what you can find out?”

  Angie glanced at Finch. “We can stay for a little while. I’ll just text Louisa at the bake shop and let her know I’m running late.”

  Back inside the house, Angie and Finch joined several residents who had gathered in the large living room where they were talking softly with one another. Megan, a pharmacy student, had reported trying to revive the young man and was fielding questions from the others.

  “Did Perry speak?” asked Roger Winthrop, the older man who had come downstairs shortly after Angie and Megan began tending to Perry.

  “He was unconscious.” Megan didn’t want to upset the residents so she didn’t mention the fact that she thought Perry was dead when she entered his room.

  From the hallway, a police officer closed the pocket doors to the living room so the stretcher carrying Perry Wildwood could be taken out to the waiting ambulance without anyone watching it go. “Please stay in here for a few minutes,” the officer said. “Chief Martin will be in to speak with you soon,” the officer said.