Fruitcake Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 26 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Read online

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  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.

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  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 1

  Melissa Gladstone Beckett felt as though she were rattling around in the Bed and Breakfast that she and husband, Detective Chas Beckett, owned, all by herself. The petite blonde felt lonely now that all of her Christmas guests had gone, leaving her at the Inn alone. Chas had gone back to work, Maggie, her innkeeper was at her sister’s home in the Midwest for the holiday, her cupcake shop next door wouldn’t reopen until after the first of the year, and there were no guests scheduled to arrive at the Inn for a couple more days.

  Missy knew that she should be grateful for the additional time to prepare for the New Year’s Eve gala that she was hosting at the Inn, but the contrast between a house full of friends and family, and now, no one but her two dogs, a golden retriever named Toffee and a malti-poo named Bitsy, was stark. She still had coffee with friends to look forward to every morning, but her heart ached for her loved ones who had gone back home after Christmas.

  “Hey Mrs. B,” Spencer Bengal, the Marine veteran who served as handyman, server, and general go-to guy for both the Inn and the Cupcakes in Paradise shop next door, greeted Missy, coming into the Wedgewood parlor, where she sat, reading a novel, curled up on a window seat.

  “Hi Spencer. What are you up to this morning?” she asked, putting her book down beside her.

  “Actually, I already finished up all of the tasks that I’d mapped out for the next three weeks, so I was hoping that I might be able to talk to you about taking some time off.”

  “Of course, sweetie. Come have a seat,” she invited, indicating the other end of the window seat.

  “Is everything okay? Is something wrong?”

  Spencer had been reluctant to take even a day off since he’d begun working for the Inn and cupcake shop several months ago. He lived in a basement apartment at the Inn and never seemed to leave, other than to run errands.

  “Everything’s fine. I was just thinking about taking a little time off, and since we seem to be a little bit slow right now, other than the gala, I thought that this might be a good time,” the handsome young man shrugged.

  “Will you be okay if I’m not here for the gala?” he asked.

  “Actually, yes, I think I will be. We’re having it catered, so there should be a serving staff, and since it’s sponsored by the police department, I don’t think that there’ll be any issues with security, so, yes, I think it would be okay if you need some time to yourself.”

  “Great, thanks, Mrs. B,” he replied, standing to go.

  “No problem, you deserve it, Spence. When were you planning on leaving?”

  “Tonight, actually, if that’s not a problem.”

  “Oh my. Well, no, it’s not a problem. Are you sure that everything is okay?” Missy’s brow furrowed with concern for the young man who had become like a son to her and Chas.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m sure,” the Marine smiled, heading for the door.

  “Okay then. Have a good time, and just let me know when you’ll be back,” she called after him.

  “Will do,” he gave a jaunty wave.

  **

  The doorbell rang after Spencer left, heralding the arrival of Missy’s coffee buddies; free –spirited, former Californian, Echo Willis, whose long curly mass of flame-colored hair drew compliments and looks of appreciation everywhere she went; and local artist, whose work was world renowned, Phillip “Kel” Kellerman. The trio had coffee together nearly every morning. Kel, who had been born and raised in Calgon and knew almost everyone, filled them in on the social and political scene. He considered it his civic duty to bring the two newcomers up to speed on the pulse of the community.

  “Hey you two,” Missy greeted them happily. “Come get cozy in the parlor with me.”

  “Is the coffee on?” Echo asked, heading for the kitchen.

  “Just hit the switch to brew it. I ground the beans a few minutes ago.”

  “I believe that the more important question at this point is, despite the fact that the cupcake shop is closed, do we still get our morning treats?” Kel inquired somewhat plaintively.

  “Of course you do,” Missy laughed. “Would I leave you hanging like that, sweetie?”

  “One would certainly hope not,” the artist made an exaggerated show of relief.

  Echo came in moments later with a tray carrying three steaming mugs of coffee. She set it next to a festive display of cupcakes that their hostess had set up in the middle of a coffee table.

  “Mmm…those look good. Are they a new creation?” Echo asked, eyeing the cupcakes.

  “Yes, they are, and I want you to keep an open mind when you try them, because I’ve done something pretty creative,” she warned.

  “That sounds a bit disturbing, but they look delightful,” Kel said, eyeing the decadent-looking treats.

  “It’s not as bad as that,” Missy laughed. “I just took something that some people hate, and turned it into something that hopefully most people will love.”

  “Well, that sounds tempting,” Echo made a face. “What’s in it? Lima beans?”

  “No,” her friend grinned. “They’re fruitcake inspired cupcakes.”

  Kel’s face fell. “Oh,” was all he said.

  “I’ve actually never tried fruitcake. The concept sounded nasty to me,” Echo said, eyeing the cupcakes as though they were alien life forms.

  “You guys really need to trust me more,” Missy insisted. “They’re a rum drenched cupcake, with buttercream frosting, and instead of having an overwhelming amount of candied fruits in the cake itself, I’ve sprinkled a few of them on top. The buttercream frosting really mellows out the flavor. Just try them, I think you’ll be happily surprised,” she said, handing Kel a regular one and Echo a vegan alternative.

  Glancing nervously at each other, they unwrapped the cupcakes and cautiously took a bite.

  “Hmm…” Kel said, raising his eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

  “Oh!” Echo exclaimed, clearly enjoying her bite.

  “See!” Missy crowed triumphantly. “I knew you’d like it.”

  “I thought that it w
ould be too…I don’t know, strongly flavored, I guess, but it isn’t. This is really good, girlfriend. Way to go,” Echo nodded.

  “Indeed. It is a pleasant surprise that I think I will need to sample more of before being able to render a comprehensive analysis,” Kel grinned mischievously.

  “I’m so glad that you like them. I’m not a huge fan of fruitcake either, but I really like these.”

  “They’re actually perfect for this time of year,” Echo agreed.

  “Yay, another experiment pays off,” Missy grinned. “Now, what’s new in Calgon?”

  Kel shook his head. “Not much to tell these days. There seems to be an appalling lack of scandal for some reason.”

  “Well, I have news,” Echo interjected. “I received my first shipments of scented oils and wax, so I’ll be able to start creating my homemade candles to sell at Cupcakes in Paradise soon.”

  She had taken classes in candle making at a community college when she lived in Louisiana, and was planning to make handcrafted candles in the scents of Missy’s cupcakes, selling them at the cupcake shop and the Inn.

  “That’s wonderful!” Missy exclaimed. “You can start with fruitcake scent,” she teased.

  “Umm…I’m thinking Cocoa Mocha,” Echo replied. “Kel, I ran into Dora when I was picking up my order at Marvelous Mailer,” she waggled her eyebrows at the artist.

  “My condolences,” was the droll reply.

  “Aww…come on. She’s nice and she asked about you.”

  “I can’t think why.”

  “Well, she obviously has a bit of a crush on you, you handsome man,” Echo teased.

  “And yet, I’ve managed to avoid and evade her tentacles on many occasions,” Kel gave a mock shudder.

  “She’s not that bad. Have you ever thought about taking her out?”

  “Not in this lifetime,” he shook his head, adamant.

  “Might be fun – you never know.”

  “Then I’ll live out the rest of my days wondering,” the artist was resolute.

  “We’ll see about that,” Echo said, mysteriously.

  Chapter 2

  Missy sat down to go over the list of plans that she had made for the New Year’s Eve gala after Kel and Echo had gone to the Gallery that he owned and she managed. It was cooler out, the temperature only reaching around fifty degrees, so she put on a sweater, grabbed more coffee, and curled up on the window seat cushion of the Wedgewood parlor. Toffee was on the floor beneath her, and Bitsy was tucked into the golden retriever’s side, snoozing happily.

  The guest list was complete, with just over 200 people expected, including the police chief and the mayor, the caterer had been retained weeks ago, and Missy would be taking down Christmas decorations in the ballroom and putting up New Year’s ones with the help of her friend and interior decorator, Carla Mayhew, in the next few days. Before Echo had moved to Florida, Carla had basically been Missy’s only friend in her new home.

  The gala would be the largest event that they’d had yet in the ballroom, and Missy was confident that it would be a spectacular event, but wanted to double-check to make certain that everything was in place. Once she had reviewed her list, she picked up a short Cozy Mystery to read, by one of Kel’s favorite authors, taking some unashamed down-time while she had the chance. She became quickly absorbed in the book, taking only short breaks to refill her coffee, and the rest of the morning flew by.

  Stomach grumbling, Missy had just wandered to the kitchen to look for something quick and easy for lunch, when she heard Toffee and Bitsy start barking like crazy, which was highly unusual for the laid-back canines. Bitsy would sometimes react if she saw a squirrel scampering through the yard, but Toffee rarely barked, even when unfamiliar humans were present. Figuring that whatever had them riled up would go away soon enough, Missy continued to cruise through the contents of the refrigerator, looking for lunch.

  Grabbing a container of thinly sliced turkey breast that had been left over from the Christmas feast, along with a plastic sleeve of aged cheddar cheese, a tomato, and a small baggie of chives, she planned to make an open-faced comfort food sandwich. Turning the broiler on, she frowned when she realized that the dogs still hadn’t quieted. Knowing that they’d calm down once she was back in the room, she continued making her sandwich, and heated up some creamy potato soup to accompany it, trying to hurry a bit. She was looking forward to being warmed through and through by the savory favorites.

  Concerned by the incessant barking, and worrying that the poor canines were scared or upset about something, Missy turned off the oven and stovetop and went to investigate, leaving her half-made lunch behind. Hurrying to the Wedgewood parlor, she saw Toffee and Bitsy focused on one of the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the back yard. They were looking down at the ground, just outside the window, and Bitsy was “digging” at the floor in front of it, as though she desperately wanted to get at whatever they were seeing.

  “Bitsy, no!” Missy exclaimed, chastising the tiny dog. Even little claws could do damage to two hundred year old wood floors. Both dogs quieted as soon as she made her presence known, but continued to fixate on the ground below the window.

  Moving to the window and following the dogs’ line of sight, Missy was surprised to see that a small, dead bird was the cause of all of the commotion.

  “Poor little thing,” she murmured. “Okay, you two, I’ll go give that sweet little birdie a decent burial, so it won’t bother you anymore,” she sighed, scooping Bitsy up into her arms and scratching dear, sweet Toffee between the ears.

  She figured that her stomach was strong enough to allow her to eat lunch after burying the poor creature, so she left her lunch on the stove and in the oven, and put her shoes on to go outside. When she made her way to the back of the Inn, she was shocked and a bit alarmed to find that it wasn’t just a lone bird under the window, but that there were many of the same type of delicate-looking brown birds with bright orange beaks scattered along the exterior wall of the Inn. Worried that they had contracted some sort of disease, she hesitated to touch them, and called Chas for his opinion.

  “I’d like to take a look,” the handsome detective replied, when she called. “Don’t touch them for now. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Feeling more than a bit sad that the lovely feathered creatures had all perished in her back yard, Missy went back into the house to wait for her husband. When she showed the detective the birds that she had found, thirteen in all, a strange look came over his features, fleeting enough that his wife didn’t see it.

  “Sweetie, why don’t you go back inside and finish making your lunch. I’ll take care of this,” he assured her, kissing her forehead.

  When his tender-hearted wife went back into the Inn, Chas took pictures of each bird with his cell phone, a grim look on his face. He hadn’t mentioned it, not wanting to upset her further, but there was something very odd about this situation. These weren’t wild birds, they were the kind that were commonly found in pet stores, and they hadn’t just died, their tiny heads had been twisted on their bodies – every one of them had a broken neck. This wasn’t an animal attack, it wasn’t a fluke of nature, it was deliberate, and Chas was determined to find out who had done this and why.

  Chapter 3

  Detective Chas Beckett pulled up in front of the Perfectly Pets shop in town, and went inside to talk with the owner, Jeb Baldwin. He identified himself, and asked to see the selection of birds. When the proprietor showed him to the avian area of the shop, he immediately recognized the type of birds that had been killed behind the Inn.

  “Have you sold many of these Zebra Finches lately?” he asked, admiring the sweet chirping of the birds.

  “No, I can’t say that I have,” the elderly man replied. “One was bought for a gift, but, aside from that, it’s been a while since one of these little guys were taken to a forever home.”

  “Do you know of other pet stores in the area that carry these particular types of bird?”
Chas asked.

  “The Bird’s Nest, over in Semblas county does, and I think Petmania, in Constantine does. Are you looking to purchase a large number of them, Detective?”

  “I wish that were the case. No, I’m investigating an animal cruelty case, unfortunately,” he shook his head.

  “Oh dear,” Jeb frowned. “Well, I’d be happy to give those other pet stores a call for you to see if they’ve sold a number of the Zebra Finches,” he offered.

  “That would be helpful,” Chas nodded.

  “I’ll do it right now, Detective,” the concerned animal lover headed for the phone behind the front counter.

  After a few calls, Jeb discovered that there was indeed a shop in a neighboring county that had recently sold thirteen of the finches to one customer. Chas got the address of the pet store and headed out immediately to make the 45 minute trip. Once inside the shop, the detective had a conversation with Jason, the young man who had sold the thirteen finches, and found that the circumstances surrounding the sale were very strange indeed.

  An order for the birds had come in the mail, with payment in cash, and instructions to drop off the creatures at an address in town. The person placing the order had given a specific directive that he or she was away from the house during the day and early evening, so the delivery should just be left inside the screened in porch on the back of the house. The worker who had processed the order had thought it strange, but was happy to accept the additional hundred dollars that had been provided for prompt delivery.

  When Jason had arrived at the house listed on the order form, with thirteen happily chirping birds, he was dismayed to find that it looked like a dilapidated and abandoned shack that needed to be condemned. Whatever his personal feelings were, the customer had paid for the birds, so he left them, as instructed, inside the screened-in back porch. Worried about the little finches, he went back the next day to check and see if they’d been picked up, and was relieved to see that they had.