Nacho Usual Murder: Hawg Heaven Cozy Mysteries, Book 3 Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  NACHO USUAL MURDER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nacho

  Usual

  Murder

  Book 3

  Hawg Heaven

  Cozy Culinary Mysteries

  By

  Summer Prescott

  Copyright 2017 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.

  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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  Email: [email protected]

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  Hawg Heaven 3

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  Rossalyn Channing was immediately engulfed in the rich aroma of sizzling bacon when she opened the door to Hawg Heaven. After receiving the tragic news that Will, her highly decorated Marine husband, had been killed in action, the young woman had moved to tiny Chatsworth, Illinois to open the roadside café, which was nestled near the intersection of three highways. She and her thirteen-year-old son, Ryan, were managing to forge a new life for themselves despite their loss, and the little café was doing well, thanks in no small part to her chef, José. The unassuming young man was the best cook she’d ever met, and his bacon roses were getting so popular that Rossie planned to feature bouquets of them for Valentine’s Day.

  Tying her long, dark hair quickly on top of her head in a messy bun, she breezed into the kitchen, inhaling deeply.

  “Oh my gosh, José,” she breathed. “What kind of food sorcery are you doing today?”

  The cook’s white teeth stood out against his caramel-colored skin as he grinned broadly at his boss’s compliment.

  “Dessert,” he answered simply, expertly spinning his spatula on the grill.

  Lanky Garrett Marshall, José’s kitchen helper, order taker, and busboy, had been working alongside José since well before five A.M., and the prep work for the morning rush was done, so the young cook was getting a head start on the daily special. Due to an unfortunate turn of events, Garrett had spent some time in jail; his ne’er-do-well neighbors had made it seem that he had attacked them when he was actually just defending himself. Rossie refused to hold his past record against him, and he’d been a loyal employee in the short time that he’d worked for her.

  “Dessert?” Rossalyn was surprised. “But you’re cooking bacon…”

  “Yes, ma’am, and you haven’t lived until you’ve tried my bacon mocha brownies. They’re sweet and salty. Chocolate with a savory crunch,” he explained proudly.

  “Oh goodness. Have a pot of coffee ready when they come out of the oven,” she advised, her stomach rumbling just a bit.

  “You need some breakfast, Ms. Rossalyn?” José asked with a chuckle.

  “No time. I’ve got to start working on tax forms right now, but I’ll be out to help when we open,” Rossie promised. “What’s the special today?”

  “Teriyaki pork roll-ups with a salad. The dressing is a gingered bacon vinaigrette.”

  “Oh my,” her stomach rumbled again.

  “I’ll bring you a breakfast sandwich in a minute. You can eat it while you do taxes,” José pointed his spatula at her.

  “Good idea,” she agreed, knowing that she’d work better with some food in her stomach. “How are you this morning, Garrett?” Rossie glanced over and saw him emptying the commercial dishwasher.

  “Gaining weight just by breathing,” he joked.

  “Good. If I do, then you certainly should,” his boss teased. “You boys let me know if you need anything,” she instructed, heading toward her tiny office.

  Glancing down at her phone as she pushed through the swinging kitchen door, she nearly barreled into a tall, lanky man who looked to be about her age.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, startled. It was well before opening time; no one should have been in the café.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the man smiled easily, hands lifted, slightly greasy hair flopping down over his forehead. “I didn’t mean to scare ya. I saw that you’re not open yet, but the door was unlocked, so I was hoping that I might be able to read the newspaper and enjoy a bit of coffee before breakfast, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Because Rossalyn had nearly run into him, the man was standing uncomfortably close, but, her defensive instincts kicking in, she didn’t budge an inch, trying to size him up. He didn’t seem dangerous. A bit clueless perhaps, but not dangerous. Just an easygoing stranger who wanted good coffee and a hot meal.

  “Umm… yeah, sure. That’d be fine. If you’d like to go ahead and take a seat,” she looked pointedly toward the eating area. “I’ll have Garrett bring you a cup of coffee. Once the kitchen is open, you can order your breakfast,” she smiled politely.

  Truthfully, it irritated her to no end when people came in before or after the business hours, which were clearly posted on every door, but she didn’t like to turn people away. She and her staff worked hard, and when their hours were extended, it added to their workload, but she tried to be understanding when weary travelers or lonely townsfolk wandered in.

  “That’s great. Thanks!” the man nodded, then turned toward the eating area.

  Rossalyn started to go through the kitchen door, when he turned back to her.

  “I don’t suppose… you’d want to join me?” he asked, his interest evident.

  “Uh, no. I mean, I’m sorry, I can’t. There’s a tremendous amount of work involved in opening up for the day,” she faked a smile, slightly ashamed for her passive-aggressive dig.

  “Sure, I understand,” he nodded. “I’ll just be out here, you know, if you have a few minutes.”

  He was persistent, but not obnoxious, so she just pretended that she hadn’t heard him and waved in his general direction before disappearing into the kitchen to let the guys know that they had a customer.

  ***

  “José, you have outdone yourself, truly,” Rossalyn’s eyes rolled back in her head as she bit into the chewy, crunchy, chocolatey ba
con goodness of her brownie. She was having a little snack after closing, and savoring every delectable bite.

  “I’m so glad you like them, Ms. Rossalyn. I packed some up for you to take to Ryan,” he held up a takeout box filled with the brownies.

  He’d drizzled caramel across the top of the amazing dessert, and had served them to guests, topped with vanilla ice cream, more caramel, and whipped topping, with sprinkles of bacon bits and mini chocolate chips.

  “You’ll have a friend for life, once he tastes these,” she grinned, sipping at a cup of decaf. She had a rule against drinking regular coffee after dinner because it sometimes affected her sleep.

  “Nah, that happened after he tasted the bacon roses,” José quipped.

  “True story,” Rossie nodded.

  “Will you be okay if we take off now?” Garrett asked, carrying his own box of brownies. Rossalyn sometimes wondered if he survived on leftovers from the café, and always suggested that he and José take things home.

  “Absolutely. I’m going to finish my snack, then I’ll be out the door and on my way to the bank. You guys have a good night,” she waved, then took another luscious bite.

  “Is it actually safe for you to do the deposit at the drop-off by yourself after dark?” Garrett worried.

  “It’s a small town. I’ll be fine. I know how to look out for myself,” Rossie reassured the polite young man.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, ducking out after José. “See you in the morning.”

  After the guys left, Rossalyn shook her hair free, and it fell about her shoulders in loose waves. She enjoyed every single bit of her brownie, even pressing a fingertip to the crumbs left on the plate and licking them off. The weary gal drained her coffee, and took her dishes to the kitchen. It had been another busy day, and José’s teriyaki roll-ups had been a hit. Placing her dishes in the dishwasher, Rossie yawned and rolled her head from side to side, trying to combat the tension in her neck and hearing the crackles and pops associated with it. She loved owning a business, but at the end of the day, she was more than glad to close the doors and head home. Her life revolved around her sweet and sensitive thirteen-year-old son, Ryan, and she was eager to hear about his world as he devoured a brownie and a glass of milk.

  Rossalyn gathered up her impressive mass of keys, along with the bank deposit bag, and, after zipping her parka up to her neck, in a somewhat futile attempt to ward off the chill of an Illinois winter, she headed to her car.

  “Hey there,” a voice in the shadows in front of the deserted café greeted her.

  For the second time today, Rossie was startled, by the same man. Clutching her bank bag protectively under her arm, she tried to not let her exasperation show.

  “Do you always go to businesses outside of their normal working hours?” she asked, trying to make light of the adrenaline that was surging through her veins.

  “I’m sorry, I scared you again, didn’t I?” the man looked almost contrite. Almost.

  “You didn’t scare me. I’m just not accustomed to people lurking in the shadows after closing,” she replied, wincing at how incredibly defensive she sounded.

  “Lurking? I wouldn’t say that I was lurking,” he grinned. “I was… waiting.”

  “For what?” Rossie tried hard not to sigh. She had a routine, and he was disturbing it.

  “To say thank you, of course. That was really nice of you to let me hang out this morning.”

  “You’re welcome,” she turned to start toward her car, but he was suddenly beside her, his hand on her arm.

  “Not so fast. I thought maybe we could get a drink, or…?” he let the question hang.

  “No, thank you. I have plans,” Rossalyn gritted her teeth, tamping down her temper.

  She was hyper-aware of the bag of money that was tucked under her arm, and knew that she’d have to drop it if she needed to get to the can of mace that she kept in her bag. Her mother had bought it, insisting that it was a necessity for all single women, even ones in small towns.

  “Aww… come on,” he cajoled, dropping his hand when he saw her looking at it as though it had suddenly morphed into a rabid cockroach.

  “Look, you don’t need to do anything to thank me. I’ve had a very long day, and I have a son and a life waiting for me, so, if you’ll excuse me,” she brushed past him and tried to keep her hand from shaking as she pushed the button to unlock her SUV.

  “You got a kid?” the man sounded surprised. “Wow, you’re a mama and you’re still a knockout,” he whistled.

  “Gee, thanks,” she muttered.

  The man had very few social filters apparently.

  “Another time then?” he called out, grinning as she slammed the door in his face.

  Rossie locked the SUV, pretending not to hear him, and backed out of her spot, making him jump out of the way to avoid having his toes flattened. She covertly glanced in the sideview mirror to see his reaction, and shook her head when she saw that he was still smiling.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  Rossalyn was more than a bit rattled by the time she finished dropping off her bank deposit and drove home. The unfamiliar man lurking outside of the restaurant seemed harmless enough, but it bothered her that he’d shown up not once, but twice, outside of business hours. She’d definitely be more vigilant in her comings and goings for a while.

  “Hey, Mom,” Ryan looked up from his homework with a distracted smile, then bent his head over his books again.

  “Hey, yourself,” she ruffled his hair on the way by, excited to see his reaction to the treat that she’d brought home for him. “Got time for a snack break?”

  “Heck, yes! Did José come up with something amazing?” he asked hopefully, eyeing the container in her hands.

  “Bacon brownies with caramel,” Rossie grinned, delighted at her son’s whoop of pure joy.

  “Yessss…” he breathed. “That’ll help me get my homework finished.”

  “Well, keep working on it for a minute, I’m going to heat them up and put some ice cream on top, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Oh, I suppose. If I have to have ice cream,” the teenager teased right back. “Are you having some?”

  “Nope, I already did. You can tell me about your day while you eat, then I’ll get my jammies on while you finish up your homework. Maybe we can watch a movie or something before bed.”

  “Sounds good,” he murmured, once more lost in his assignment.

  “Whatcha working on?” Rossie asked, after handing Ryan his bowl of scrumptious dessert.

  “I’m doing a report for Ms. Simpson’s class. It’s about ancient civilizations, and after the reports are done, we get to build a village for extra credit if we want to,” his eyes sparkled. The young man loved history… just as his dad had.

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “Definitely,” he nodded enthusiastically, stuffing brownie and ice cream into his mouth as though his life depended upon it. “I already have an A in there, but I want to do it just because it sounds fun. I’m going to make buildings out of mud and sticks and stuff. It’ll be awesome.”

  Rossalyn smiled at his excitement. “So, how’s school going in general? Are you making more friends?”

  Ryan had been a newcomer in the small town where everyone else had grown up together. Breaking into the ebb and flow of firmly established friendships had been a bit of a rough go, and he’d been bullied at first, but he was a good kid and a smart one, so he’d managed to carve out a niche for himself.

  “I dunno,” he shrugged. “Some people still look at me like I’m from another planet, and most people just ignore me, but I know a few people who let me sit with them in the cafeteria, and there’s always Kelsey.”

  “Yes, thank goodness for Kelsey,” Rossie gazed at her son speculatively.

  Kelsey had been the first person to approach Ryan when he moved to town. The dark-haired, bespectacled young lady, who looked like Velma from Scooby Doo, had been determined to take
him under her wing and show him the ropes. The two had become fast friends, and she’d told off potential bullies in no uncertain terms more than once, when some of their classmates snickered behind Ryan’s back.

  “She’s a pain sometimes and she gets a little bossy, but she’s usually pretty cool. I think she just enjoys standing up to all of the people that no one else stands up to. It’s like she’s always ready to get in someone’s face if they need it,” he shrugged. His eyes sparkled devilishly. “Maybe she has a bossy mom, too.”

  “‘Too’? What are you? A psychoanalyst?” Rossalyn shot back with a grin.

  “Maybe someday. If I become one I’ll give you a half-price rate,” Ryan teased, scraping the bottom of his bowl with the spoon.

  “Lucky me,” she growled playfully. “Get back on that homework, you incorrigible miscreant. I’m going to grab a quick bath before the movie.”

  “Have fun,” was the nonchalant response, as he loaded his bowl into the dishwasher. “I should be finished with this in about half an hour,” he gestured at his paper, picking up his pen.

  Rossie went upstairs to her room feeling much better than she had when she’d come in. Her son made her proud, and just being in his company brought her stress level down considerably. Slipping wearily out of her daily uniform of a Hawg Heaven tee shirt and jeans, she ran the bath water and wrapped up in a soft chenille robe while she waited for the tub to fill. Securing her mane of hair with a thick-toothed clip on top of her head, she glanced out of her high bathroom window and could’ve sworn that she saw something… or someone… in the shadows. She didn’t want Ryan outside after dark; too many strange things had happened in this small town since they’d arrived, and she didn’t quite trust it to be safe outside once the sun went down. She shut off the tap, then hurried to the top of the stairs.

  “Rye?” she called down.

  “Yeah?” was the mildly annoyed response from her son, who was still at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, diligently trying to finish up.