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Peaches and Creme Killer: Book 6 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
PEACHES AND CRÈME KILLER
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
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
Peaches and Crème Killer
Book Six in the
INNcredibly Sweet Series
By
Summer Prescott
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
This book is dedicated to my muse, who has been a constant source of unconditional love and support since long before I started writing Cozies. Being an author can be an arduous process if one is forced to go it alone, and because of this dear man, I’ve never had to face that reality. He is my cheerleader, my coach, my number one fan, and my love.
Thank you, dear muse, for keeping me sane, and allowing me to be focused, and taking me out for sunshine and fresh air when I become obsessed. Thank you for brainstorming sessions over sushi, and for helping me to find inspiration in sometimes the simplest of things. You are an amazing, loving, creative soul…and I couldn’t have done it without you.
Author’s note: I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on—reader feedback is very important to me. My contact information, along with some other helpful links, is listed below. If you’d like to be on my
list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc.… just shoot me an email and let me know. Thanks for reading!
Also…
… if you’re looking for more great reads, I am proud to announce that Summer Prescott Books publishes a popular series by new cozy author Patti Benning. Check out my book catalog http://summerprescottbooks.com/book-catalog/ for her delicious stories.
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PEACHES AND CRÈME
KILLER
Book Six in the INNcredibly Sweet Series
CHAPTER 1
Melissa Gladstone Beckett, a petite, blonde Louisiana gal, who had been transplanted several months ago in the lovely seaside town of Calgon, Florida, had a busy day ahead of her. She glanced quickly at her timer, noting that in just over two minutes, she’d need to take her newest creations – Peaches and Crème cupcakes – a recipe that she’d developed for her cupcake shop, Cupcakes in Paradise - out of the oven to cool, so that she could frost and decorate them.
The recipe was a decadent one that was particularly tempting because she had included a luscious, fresh peach puree in the batter. The moist, dense, cakes would be topped off with a fluffy vanilla buttercream frosting, a slice of fresh, juicy peach, and a sprinkling of caramelized pecans. Missy smiled to herself, knowing that these delectable treats would be hard to resist.
The spunky southerner, along with her dashing and clever husband, Detective Chas Beckett, also owned The Beach House Bed and Breakfast Inn, which was conveniently located just next door to the heavenly-scented cupcake shop. There were guests coming in to stay at the Inn, who should be arriving in another hour or so, and Missy planned to ask the handyman/bartender/shuttle driver, Spencer Bengal, to come take over for her at Cupcakes in Paradise, so that she could pop over to the Inn and greet the new guests.
Spencer Bengal, a Marine veteran who had become like a member of the family, lived in a basement apartment at the Inn, and had come to the rescue many times when Missy had emergencies or logistical issues arise. The dark-haired, muscular young man seemed to have quite a knack for being right where Missy, Chas and their friends needed him to be – always ready to help out – and almost always with an easy smile on his face.
The cupcakes came out of the oven, a perfect light peach color, and Missy’s stomach growled audibly, making her chuckle to herself. She had roughly half an hour to frost the sweet cakes after they cooled, before her best friend Echo Willis arrived for coffee, along with her colorful fiancé, Phillip “Kel” Kellerman.
Echo and Missy had become fast friends when Echo had owned a vegan ice cream shop across from Missy’s former cupcake shop in Louisiana. When Missy married Chas, and headed to Florida to run the bed and breakfast, Echo had moved back to California, where the free-spirited, flame-haired gal was originally from. She found life lonely without her best friend, Missy, however, and when she came for a visit, a few months after the move, she just stayed, much to Missy’s delight.
Echo and Kel came nearly every morning to the cupcake shop to have coffee and catch up on all of the local ‘gossip.’ Kel, a local, but internationally renowned artist, made it a point to bring newcomers, Missy and Echo, up to speed on the scandals, business affairs, and other interesting goings-on in Calgon. Missy’s morning routine quite often consisted of, kissing her husband goodbye, taking her golden retriever, Toffee, and malti-poo, Bitsy, for a rollicking romp on the beach, inventing and baking a new cupcake recipe, then finally settling down for coffee and cupcakes with her friends…all before Cupcakes in Paradise opened for the day. It might sound like a daunting regimen to some, but the energetic baker thrived on staying busy and trying to make folks’ lives a little sweeter in any way that she could.
Missy had just finished putting the finishing touches on the final batch of her Peaches and Crème creations, when she heard Echo out front, putting on a fresh pot of coffee for their morning get-together.
“Hey, darlin,” she greeted her best friend as she passed by with a plate of perfect peach cupcakes.
“Hey, sunshine,” Echo grinned, getting ready to pour the coffee. “Mmm…what smells so good?”
“New recipe. Peach cupcakes, you’re going to love them,” Missy assured her, setting the plate in the center of their favorite bistro table in the eating area of the shop.
“Ooooo…” her friend’s eyes brightened as she set down the cups of coffee. “Which ones are vegan?”
“The ones with the little pink candy pearl on top,” Missy pointed, and helped herself to a non-vegan cupcake.
She always tried to convert her new recipes into a vegan version as well. She had several customers who came in for them specifically, and Echo was always more than willing to be her taste-tester.
“So…what do you think?” she asked, once her friend had taken a nibble.
“I think that these should be declared a food group,” Echo murmur
ed through a mouthful, her eyes practically rolling back in her head.
“Oh good,” Missy exclaimed. “I have some guests checking in today, and one of them is vegan.”
She always liked to bring new arrivals a cupcake or two to welcome them to the Inn, and usually when she did, her guests ended up making their way over to her shop several times during their stay.
“Oh, that’s right, you have a crowd coming in today,” Echo nodded, remembering. “Ugh, are they all political types?”
A highly competitive governor’s race was currently going on, and Calgon was hosting a gubernatorial debate in a few days, because one of the candidates was a native son. The event was bringing scads of politicians, their support staffs and loyal followers to the typically quiet beachside community. Echo had a healthy contempt for all things political, and couldn’t wait for the whole spectacle to be over and done with, despite the fact that she’d seen a serious increase in visitors at her downtown candle shop.
“Mostly, yes,” Missy nodded. “But we do have one gal coming in who just wants to relax for a bit. She owns a pie shop down in the Keys and sounded quite nice when I spoke with her on the phone.”
“She lives in the Keys and wants to vacation here?” Echo raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I mean, Calgon is beautiful, but why would she choose here rather than somewhere else?”
“She just wants to get away from home I suppose. I don’t know that the location really matters. She just wants to be stress-free and do nothing for a few days. I can totally understand that,” her friend shrugged.
“That makes sense, I suppose.”
“Where’s Kel this morning?” Missy asked, licking a stray bit of frosting from her finger after taking a bite of cupcake.
Echo’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you…so, remember the gal that had been out here saying that she was looking for art for her father’s collection, but she was really trying to bribe the city council to acquire some land, and then ended up going to jail for murder?” she asked excitedly.
“Of course I remember, she was staying at the Inn,” Missy made a face. “Carlotta Lehman…what about her?”
“Well, as it turns out, she actually had talked to her father about some of Kel’s pieces, and he’s ordered several of them to be delivered to his home in New York. Kel is at the studio, supervising the crew who is getting them ready for shipment,” she finished proudly.
“Oh, that’s wonderful! So, at least something good came out of an otherwise awful situation,” Missy commented.
“Exactly,” Echo nodded.
The two women chatted easily for the rest of their time together, then Spencer came in to relieve Missy so that she could walk over to the Inn and greet the new guests. Maggie, the Innkeeper that she and Chas had “inherited” when they purchased the Inn, would have things entirely under control, but Missy liked to meet and greet folks when she could.
CHAPTER 2
Marilyn Hayes had made her way from Key West up the coast to Calgon in a rented luxury convertible, having the time of her life with the radio cranked up loud, the sun on her shoulders, and the wind riffling through her shoulder-length java-colored hair. Should there be semicolons, rather than commas between sections? Her daughter, Tiara, had moved away after accepting the job of her dreams in California, things were going very well in her budding relationship with Cort, the detective that she’d been seeing for quite a while now, and her key lime pie shop was doing so well that she had to decide whether to expand her current building or buy a new place.
The busy business owner had some tough decisions to make, and needed to clear her head before she chose any particular direction. She wanted to get away from it all for just a bit, and when she’d seen the advertisement for the Beach House in an online B&B directory, she knew that she’d found her temporary oasis. Marilyn had taken her time winding her way up from the Keys, determined to just relax and breathe. She’d told Missy, the owner of the Beach House, that her arrival date was somewhat nebulous, and the gracious woman with the cute southern accent had agreed to hold a room for her, despite being inundated with reservation requests from those who were politically inclined.
Red, white and blue banners, signs with slogans, and signs on local businesses heralded the arrival of the gubernatorial candidates, as Marilyn entered Calgon, making her smile. The overall effect reminded her of the circus coming to town, and she chuckled to herself, realizing that the observation probably wasn’t far from the truth.
She was delighted when she pulled into the circular drive in front of the Beach House and saw that the mansion was even more gracious than the online photos had indicated. Imagining herself stretched out by the pool, the businesswoman felt her shoulders relax, as she parked in the only space that was left in the lot beside the Inn. As if by magic, a gorgeous young man with flowing black hair appeared beside her car, and opened her door.
“Oh, hello,” Marilyn exclaimed, unable to form any other coherent thought in the presence of such stunning masculinity.
“Good morning. Ms. Hayes, I presume?” the young man grinned, showing a perfect set of white teeth. She could only nod.
“Welcome, I’m Spencer Bengal. I help out here at the Inn,” he shook her hand. “If you pop the trunk, I’d be happy to take your bags up to your room while you get checked in with Maggie.”
She watched as he effortlessly picked up her heavy leopard-print bags, as though they weighed nothing, then followed him into the marble-clad foyer of the Inn. Several men in suits were heading up to their rooms when Marilyn signed in with Maggie, and shortly after Spencer took her bags to her room and disappeared, the owner of the Beach House rushed in the front door, eager to introduce herself.
“Hi, I’m Missy,” she said, handing Marilyn a pretty green and white striped bakery box containing a delicious-looking cupcake. “Welcome to the Beach House. How was your trip?”
“Everything that I hoped it would be,” she smiled. “This is quite the amazing place you have here.”
“Thanks – we love it and hope that you do too.”
Maggie and Missy gave her a delightful tour of the Inn, and Marilyn mounted the stairs to her room knowing that her time here would be something special.
CHAPTER 3
Contractor Ed Jabrowski couldn’t believe his good fortune. He remodeled homes for a living, which meant that he had an “in” with some of the local realtors. If their clients needed a little work to be done, they called upon Ed, who was known for the high quality of work and fairly reasonable pricing. He did everything from removing and replacing plumbing and electrical to applying the finest and most delicate of finishes on one hundred-fifty year old mahogany woodwork.
Ed looked with particular glee at this next project, because he’d finally get to personally reap the benefits of his hard work on this one – he’d bought a distressed property for himself. The former owner had been in poor health prior to his death, a little over a year ago, and, because he had no heirs, his house had been tied up in the courts until now. The long period of neglect had taken its toll, but Ed saw the potential in the once-gracious home, and planned to restore it to better than its former glory.
When a realtor buddy of his had called him about the place, he’d jumped at it, buying it without so much as a walk-through. One could see from the street that the house had good bones, and since he’d snagged it before it officially went on the market, he was able to buy it for a fraction of what it would someday be worth.
Once inside, he saw the holes in the roof, the pipes that had leaked in the kitchen, and the bird’s nests that dotted the nooks and crannies under the soffits and in the attic, but he remained undaunted. He could already see, in his mind’s eye, what this Mid-Century masterpiece would look like once he was done with it.
Ed replaced the roof before moving on to the more exciting jobs in the interior, creating a beamed and planked vaulted ceiling that opened up the space and gave it a lofty feel. The major systems (plum
bing, electrical, gas, heat and air) would be checked next, and repaired or replaced as necessary. He had vowed to cut no corners, and leave no stone unturned – this house was going to be his shining star, and he would treat this vintage lady with the respect that she deserved.
“Hey, Ed,” Myron Connors, the pest control guy, approached, clip-board in hand. “Good news…no termites, roaches, mice, or other critters, now that the bird nests have been relocated, but there’s something in your crawl space that you’ll probably want to check out at some point.”
“What? Did you find a body under there or something?” Ed joked, pleased with the report – that meant one less thing for him to worry about.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Myron rolled his eyes. “But, no. It’s what looks like a plastic industrial barrel. I don’t know about you, but if I had an industrial barrel under my crawl space, I’d sure want to know what was in it,” he shrugged. “Sign here, and I’ll get that report out to ya,” he handed Ed a grimy pen.
“Alright, thanks Myron. I’ll take a look at the barrel – maybe this is my lucky day and it’ll be filled with treasure.”
“Yeah, let me know – I get at least a quarter of it for pointing it out to ya,”
“You got it,” Ed chuckled.
He wasn’t looking forward to getting into the crawl space, because, just like the song said, he “don’t like spiders and snakes,” and in Florida, he stood a good chance of encountering both, along with the occasional lost gator, but he figured he’d better get to it sooner, rather than later, so he wouldn’t forget about it.
Lowering himself carefully into the dank, musty space, Ed switched on his head lamp and spotted the black plastic barrel that Myron had mentioned almost instantly. Thankful that he’d been working out and was thin enough to fit into the space by crawling on his hands and knees and keeping his head down, he crept closer to the barrel to look for identifying marks or symbols, so he’d have some idea of what he was dealing with. He suspected that it was a barrel of trash that the former owner just never bothered to remove.