- Home
- Summer Prescott
Eggnog Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 23 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)
Eggnog Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 23 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Read online
Get Early Access to My Books For FREE!
Every two weeks you’ll get a new Cozy Novella from me absolutely FREE.
Sign up now! http://bit.ly/AuthorCarolDurand
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015 by Maven Publishing & Summer Prescott Books - All rights reserved.
All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Table of 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 1
Melissa Gladstone-Beckett loved the surge of excitement that she always experienced with the arrival of new guests at the Beach House, a B&B that she owned with her handsome and clever husband, Detective Chas Beckett. Having lived her entire life, with the exception of the past several months, in a small town in Louisiana, she had moved to Calgon, Florida after buying the bed and breakfast inn, and her whole life embodied southern hospitality at its finest. The petite, energetic blonde had also purchased the small cottage next door to the Inn and converted it to a cupcake shop and tea room, Cupcakes in Paradise, so that she could indulge her love of baking. Her two business ventures often meshed, with gifts from her kitchen gracing the table at the Beach House almost daily.
A newlywed couple was coming to the Inn for their honeymoon, and Missy had outfitted the Honeymoon Suite with flowers, chocolates, a bottle of fine wine, and a basket filled with fruit and snacks. The new Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey Mitchell would be arriving any moment now, and she was eager to give them the tour of the Inn and get them happily settled.
“Maggie, did you make sure that there were containers of bath salts in their room?” she asked her innkeeper, a lithe, silver-haired woman with a perpetual smile.
“Yes, I did. They’re fully stocked with three different scents,” she replied, fussing with the large floral centerpiece in the foyer.
“Good. They should be here any moment now,” Missy glanced at her watch.
Spencer Bengal, the young, attractive Marine veteran who served as the handyman and general “go-to” guy for the Inn and cupcake shop, came in the back door, prepared to retrieve the couple’s luggage and take it upstairs for them.
“Hey, Spence, did you buy the cruising bicycles that I asked for?”
“Yes ma’am. Four of them, two in turquoise and two in lime green. I also built a bike rack next to the pool cabana so that the overhang will cover them when it rains.”
Missy smiled at the efficient young man who had quickly become indispensable. “I never even thought of putting in a bike rack,” she shook her head. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, ma’am,” the Marine replied amiably. “Looks like they’re here.”
Jeffrey and Amber Mitchell were the epitome of the All-American couple. She was a chestnut-haired beauty, he had the classic good looks of a Ken doll, and both appeared to be totally smitten with one another.
Missy introduced herself, Maggie and Spencer, and gave the couple a tour of the Inn, before showing them to their room. They were planning to go to the beach as soon as they were able to change into swimsuits, so she instructed Maggie to prepare a picnic basket that they could take to the beach with them.
Spencer set up the picnic basket, a cooler full of soft drinks, a bottle of crisp white wine and a pair of loungers under a sunbrella on the beach behind the Inn, doing his part in making the couple feel welcome.
The bride was delighted when Missy told her about the treats that had been prepared. “Oh my goodness, that’s so sweet. Thank you!” she exclaimed.
Jeffrey poked her lightly in the ribs. “Better not enjoy that picnic too much,” he joked. “Somebody’s been skipping her yoga class lately.”
Amber’s flat and toned midriff was bare between the bikini top that she wore and the beach cover-up that was tied artfully around her hips, and Missy spotted a large bruise just above her hip bone.
“Oh, honey, what happened?” she asked, eyeing the purple splotch that had a rim of brown, green and yellow around it.
“This one is clumsy,” Jeffrey answered for her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “She slipped in the tub. Thank you for everything – we can’t wait to get to the beach,” he smiled, leading his bride toward the door.
“Let us know if you need anything,” Missy called out, exchanging a look with Maggie.
“Will do,” he replied, giving a jaunty wave without turning around.
“Do you think…?” Maggie worried.
“I certainly hope not,” Missy sighed. “But I’ll be keeping an eye on it.”
Chapter 2
Missy’s best friend, Echo Willis, a red-headed vegan who had moved to Florida from California, was having a hard time getting out of bed, and once she did, everything seemed to go wrong. Her oatmeal burned to the side of the pan, setting off her smoke alarm, and her favorite gauzy, flowing skirt had come out of the washing machine full of holes. She’d opened the windows, letting in the humid Gulf Coast air, to rid her house of the acrid scent of burnt oatmeal which hung in the air, and had placed the skirt in her bag of rags to be made into a rug at a later date, when her doorbell rang. She ran a frustrated hand through her long, curly tresses and headed for the front door, dismayed when she looked out of her peephole and saw her obnoxious neighbor, Steve.
Echo had nicknamed the single, 30-something “Loud Steve,” because he always had the music in his little red pickup truck blasting so loudly that she could hear him when he entered the neighborhood, two blocks away. He also had a nasty habit of sitting on his side porch, which faced one of her kitchen windows, and smoking. The stench of cigarette smoke would sometimes waft into her spotless kitchen, killing her appetite, and causing her to have most uncharitable thoughts about her careless neighbor.
“Good morning,” she pasted on a polite smile, hoping that whatever he wanted wouldn’t take long.
“Well, hello Dolly…” he leered, allowing his gaze to travel up, down and back again.
“What can I do for you, Steve? I’m pressed for time this morning,” Echo glanced at her watch.
“I heard your smoke alarm go off over here. Came to check and make sure you were alright,” he sucked his teeth.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for checking,” she replied, moving to shut the door, frustrated when he blocked her by putting his hand against it.
“Did somethin’ catch fire?”
“No, I just burned some oatmeal,” she explained, trying hard not to let her impatience show.
“Oatmeal? That ain’t a fittin’ meal anyhow,” Steve scoffed. “I got some bacon, eggs a
nd fried potatoes over at my place if you’re still hungry. I can butter up some toast to go with it, and I got fresh coffee too,” he said, practically smacking his lips.
Echo shuddered inwardly at his litany of animal products. “I’m vegan, so that wouldn’t really work for me, but thanks anyway,” she tried to shut the door again, and again, he stopped her.
“Well, I vote independent, myself,” he blinked, misunderstanding the term. “That don’t mean we can’t share a meal,” the large, sweating man persisted.
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to be late for work if I don’t get going, so you have a good day. Bye,” she said quickly, closing the door before he could reply.
She watched out of the peephole, noting that Steve looked a bit perplexed and stood on her doorstep for a moment before shrugging and turning to leave. Echo sighed, and looking at her watch again, noticed that her interaction with Steve really did put her behind schedule. She rushed through the rest of her morning routine, knowing that, at least when she got to Cupcakes in Paradise, there’d be a vegan cupcake and a fresh pot of Costa Rican coffee awaiting her.
Echo, Missy and Phillip “Kel” Kellerman, an incredible artist and gallery owner, met at the cupcake shop every morning. Since Missy and Echo were both new to Calgon, Kel felt that it was his civic duty to bring them up to speed on local gossip. Echo worked with Missy in the shop during the morning, then served as Kel’s Gallery Manager in the afternoons. The trio had become inseparable, and had banded together on more than one occasion to help unravel mysteries in the town, behind the scenes, of course.
“Hey darlin,” Missy greeted her with a hug. “How are you?”
“Don’t ask,” Echo grumbled.
“Uh-oh, sounds like somebody needs some coffee,” she teased, reaching for the pot of fragrant brew.
“And a cupcake,” her friend sighed. Sitting down beside Kel, who was reading the morning paper, she related the story of her encounter with her neighbor.
“Well, it sounds like he’s trying to be very neighborly,” Missy, ever the optimist, replied.
“I think he wants to be more than a friendly neighbor,” Kel commented dryly, folding his paper. “And what divine creations do we have this morning?” he eyed the plate of cupcakes that she placed in the center of the table.
“Well, I tried something new actually, and I hope you like them. They’re holiday-themed, and a bit unusual – Eggnog cupcakes with sugared rum buttercream frosting – see what you think. Echo, it’s impossible for me to do a vegan version, so I made you some vanilla bean cupcakes with orange zest frosting. Hopefully that’ll brighten up your morning,” Missy beamed, pointing out the treats.
“I’m feeling better already,” she grinned, reaching for a decadent-looking cupcake.
“So, what’s new in town, Kel?” Missy sat at the table, holding her coffee cup under her nose to inhale the aromatic steam rising from it.
“No new scandals that I know of,” the artist reported glumly. “But, I’m making significant progress in rebuilding my collection.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Missy exclaimed. The artist’s gallery had been ransacked by an addict, and restoration had been a slow, but positive process.
“I’m actually getting calls from collectors all over the world who want to have priority selection of his new pieces,” Echo added with excitement.
“Wow, you’re a pretty big deal,” Missy grinned at Kel, who actually blushed.
“Well, I don’t know about all of that, but it does mean that whenever I’m not at the gallery, I’m toiling away in my studio.”
“A labor of love,” his assistant reminded him.
“Indeed. So, tell us about your new guests at the Inn,” he changed the subject, clearly uncomfortable with being the center of attention.
“They’re newlyweds, and the bride is absolutely adorable,” Missy smiled.
“And the groom?” Echo asked, taking a large bite of her cupcake.
“I don’t know,” she frowned. “He said some things to and about his new wife that seemed…well…patronizing and a bit unkind.”
“Like?”
“Well, she can’t be bigger than a size 2, and he sort of insinuated that she was fat.”
Echo raised an eyebrow in surprise and disapproval.
“And then, when I asked her about a bruise just above her hip bone, he said that she was clumsy, and didn’t let her answer for herself.”
Echo asked her next question without looking up from her plate. She raised her hands and formed an O shape with her thumbs and forefingers. “Was it about this size and shape?”
Missy nodded, surprised. “Yes, it was. How did you know?”
“I used to have a boyfriend,” she muttered, her jaw clenched.
Confused, Missy looked at Kel for an explanation.
“It’s just about the size of a male fist,” he explained grimly.
“That’s what I was afraid of. What can I do?” she worried.
“There’s nothing you can do,” Echo said dully. “It’s her choice whether she stays or goes. Let me guess, he said she had some kind of accident, right? Stumbled into the stair rail…walked into a door knob?” she guessed.
“Fell in the tub,” Missy replied. Echo nodded sadly.
“Just be kind to her while you can. The rest will have to work itself out when they get home.”
“That poor dear,” Missy murmured.
“Well ladies, as much as I’ve enjoyed the uplifting conversation,” Kel commented with a touch of sarcasm. “I must get to the studio and resume building my new collection. Perhaps I’ll do a study in blue today,” he mused, clearly affected by the thought of a young bride being abused.
“I’ll be in this afternoon,” Echo promised as he headed to the door.
“What kind of man would hit his wife?” Missy wondered, shaking her head.
“The kind that would lie to her and make her feel special for long enough to trap her,” Echo said quietly, lost in painful memories.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry that this brought up a past that you’d rather forget,” Missy reached across the table and grasped her best friend’s hand. The reason that Echo left California and moved to Louisiana, where she and Missy originally met, was to escape a criminally abusive boyfriend who was stalking her. Reliving those memories couldn’t be easy for her.
“It’s okay,” she smiled faintly. “But, I’m glad I’m here, because I have the sudden urge to bake like crazy.”
“Your wish is my command, darlin’ – I’ve got holiday orders to fill, so let’s get at it,” Missy rose and hugged her friend before heading to the kitchen.
Chapter 3
Missy was walking through the Inn’s grand foyer to check on her guests during afternoon tea, when a striking young woman who looked oddly familiar came in the front door.
“Hello, may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m looking for Amber and Jeffrey Mitchell,” she smiled brightly, and Missy realized why she looked familiar. She bore a striking resemblance to the new bride. “I’m Ashlie, Amber’s sister.”
“I can tell,” Missy replied with a grin. “They should be at afternoon tea. I’m headed that way if you’d like to follow me.” She led the way to the parlor.
“Are you from this area?”
“No ma’am, I’m from Indiana, just like they are. I just wanted to come down and surprise them on my Christmas break. I mean, I know it’s their honeymoon, but we don’t really get a ton of time to spend together, so I know that Amber will be excited,” Ashlie gushed.
Missy wondered about that, but said nothing and merely smiled politely.
“Ashlie?” Amber said, when her sister came into the parlor behind Missy. “What are you doing here?” The look on her face was definitely confused and a bit worried, rather than excited.
“Well, you know…Dad’s in Barbados with his new girlfriend, Mom is buried up to her ears in research, and I just…I missed you. It’s the holidays and
I wanted to be with my sister. You’re not mad are you?” she bit her lip and blinked her large brown eyes with the innocence of a newborn fawn.
“Of course she isn’t,” Jeffrey strode over and hugged his sister-in-law. “We’re always glad to see you. Come in and join us,” he directed, steering her to the tables laden with light snacks, tea and wine.
Missy glanced at Amber, who at first merely stared, but then forcibly brightened up and joined in. “Right, join us,” she came over and hugged her sister.
Missy and Maggie exchanged a glance.
“Well, I hope you all have a lovely time at tea. Please let me know if you need anything,” the innkeeper smiled politely as Missy turned to go.
“Oh, I’ll need a room,” Ashlie piped up. “Are there any available here?”
“Ashlie, you can’t afford a room here,” her sister whispered.
“Maggie, if you’d get Ashlie set up in a room and put it on my bill, I’d appreciate it,” Jeffrey said, much to the younger sister’s relief.
“But Jeffrey…I…” Amber began. He hushed her with a look.
“It’s the holidays. Families should be together. This will be great,” he insisted, throwing an arm around each of the young ladies. Ashlie beamed and Amber forced a polite smile.
“I’ll drink to that,” the young bride said, trying for enthusiasm.
“You’ll be having wine with dinner tonight, so a cup of tea will be more appropriate right now. That’s why they call it afternoon tea,” Jeffrey reminded his wife.
“Yes, of course,” Amber nodded, without expression.
“Oooooh! Look at all of the varieties,” Ashlie exclaimed. “I feel so sophisticated, having tea in a parlor,” she giggled. “Wait until I tell my roommate.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jeffrey encouraged. “You should try the finger sandwiches, they’re delicious.”
Missy gave Maggie a look. “Hey sweetie, I’m going to go find Spencer. Do you know where he might be?” she asked the innkeeper.
“I believe he’s outside, giving the back side of the cabana a new coat of paint.”