Champagne Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 27 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 2

  “Thanks for the offer, Steve. Have a good night,” she closed the door before he could say another word.

  Shaking her head, and finally letting out the massive sigh that had been building up during the course of the conversation, Echo headed back to the extra bedroom that she used as her candle studio. The candle that she had been working on was solid and had to be put aside to melt down again, which meant that she had to start over. She had just prepared another wick and was ready to start dipping, when the doorbell rang again. Clamping her teeth together, she looked at the ceiling, frustrated with her clueless neighbor. While she debated about whether to answer the door or ignore him entirely, he rang the bell again.

  Frustration gave way to anger and she stomped out of the bedroom, down the hall, through the living room and foyer, to the front door.

  “Look I already told you that I don’t want…” she began very tersely when she opened the door, stopping when she saw a rather handsome man in a delivery uniform standing in front of her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammered, her face turning a fetching shade of pink, complementing her flame-red curls. “I have a really obnoxious neighbor and I thought…well, anyway…uh, what can I do for you?” her blush deepened.

  “No problem. I never know what I’m going to encounter when someone answers the door – you should see some of the things that I’ve seen,” he shook his head with a smile.

  Echo laughed, relieved that he had a sense of humor. “I can only imagine.”

  “I have several packages for you, ma’am,” he said, thankfully looking at his list so that he didn’t see her blush darken even further. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a fit of the giggles that was threatening to burst free.

  “Oh…I, uh…okay. You can just put them in here,” she motioned to the foyer.

  “Sounds good,” the man went back to his large delivery truck to fetch her packages and she couldn’t help but observe his incredibly fit physique as he walked away, which did nothing to alleviate the rush of blood that colored her face at the moment.

  “Here we go,” he said, stepping into the foyer with a tower of boxes and setting them down.

  “Is that all of them?” Echo asked.

  “Nope, there are a few more. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him walk away again, simply enjoying the view, and a bit ashamed of herself for it.

  “This load does it,” he said, consulting his clip board. He made an X on the bottom of the page and handed it to her. “Just sign right there, and I’ll be on my way,” he smiled, flashing adorable dimples. Blonde hair, blue eyes, great body…this guy was quite the dish, and he looked to be about Echo’s age.

  She signed the page and handed the clip board back to him. “There we go. Well, thanks,” she smiled at the man, a bit dazed.

  “Do you get a lot of deliveries?” he asked, having no idea the scenarios that ran through her head at his question.

  “Umm…yeah, lately I do. I’m starting a new business and my supplies are just starting to trickle in,” she explained.

  “Well, good. I just started this route recently, so it looks like we may be seeing a lot of each other,” he grinned. “I’m Bradley…call me Brad,” he said, holding out his hand. She shook it and it engulfed her delicate one.

  “Nice to meet you, Brad. I’m Echo.”

  “Yeah, I knew that,” he smiled mischievously, holding up the clip board.

  “I guess you did,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

  “Have a nice night,” his eyes appraised her from head to toe before he turned to leave, making the rosy glow appear in her cheeks once again.

  “You too,” she closed the door slowly and leaned against it. Life just became infinitely more interesting.

  Chapter 4

  Kel, Echo and Missy were gathered around their favorite table at Cupcakes in Paradise for their traditional morning coffee and cupcakes.

  “So did you two have fun antiquing yesterday?” Kel asked, in between bites of a salted caramel double fudge cupcake.

  “Yes, we did,” Missy nodded enthusiastically. “I found quite a few really nice pieces, and the prices seemed so reasonable.”

  “Well, score one for the home team. I’m guessing that those incredible vintage earrings you’re wearing came from that trip?” he asked, turning to Echo.

  “Yes, they did. Thanks for noticing,” she turned her head from side to side, showing off her find.

  “What shops did you explore?”

  “We only went to one,” Missy replied. “Past Thyme, downtown.”

  “Ahhh…Cora Greitzer’s place,” the artist nodded.

  “You know her?” Echo asked.

  “In passing. She’s active in local charities, so I see her at events quite often. Came from a good family, made a nice living with her shop after her husband passed away a few years ago. She has a grandson whom I believe is the entire reason that her hair turned white,” he grimaced.

  “We met him,” Missy said. “He barely even spoke. You could tell that it made Cora uncomfortable, but she excused his behavior, saying that he’s just shy.”

  “Shy my foot,” Kel commented derisively. “I’m surprised that Cora even lets the miscreant in her store. He’s known all over town for getting into trouble and having to be bailed out by his wealthy family. He rejects their “capitalist ideals” but expects them to use the assets that they’ve gained from their “capitalist” ventures to buy him out of the sticky situations in which he finds himself.”

  “I knew it,” Echo nodded. “When we passed by him, he smelled a bit suspicious.”

  “I thought he smelled like herbs…maybe he’d been cooking or something,” Missy blinked.

  Kel and Echo looked at each other and smiled at her naivete.

  “He smelled like herbs alright…the illegal kind,” Echo explained gently, amused.

  Missy’s eyes widened. “You mean…” she gasped.

  “If the rumors are true, that wouldn’t be out of character for the young man,” Kel added.

  “Wow. Poor Cora,” she murmured.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about Cora,” Kel smiled. “She’s smart and she’s tough, and although she may make excuses for Michael in front of customers, I really don’t think she has any illusions about him on a personal level.”

  “It’s still sad.”

  “On a happier note,” Echo interjected. “What happened with the European collector that you met with yesterday?” she asked the artist.

  “It was rather strange, actually. He seemed much more interested in finding out about what other collectors I work with, and who in the local area has a significant collection,” Kel said, puzzled.

  “Did he express an interest in any of your work?”

  “He did, but he wondered if there were any of my major clients that he could speak with as references.”

  “References?” Missy asked. “That’s weird. Is he wanting to commission a piece?”

  “He didn’t say,” Kel shrugged. “I’ll be meeting with him again. Hopefully I’ll get more information about what he’s looking for the next time.”

  “Do you want me to talk to him?” Echo asked. Sometimes she, as Gallery Manager, could get more information from star-struck clients than Kel could himself.

  “Thinking of working your feminine wiles on the poor soul?” the artist teased.

  “Whatever works,” his manager shot back with a sly grin.

  “We’ll tag team, and see what happens.”

  “He won’t know what hit him.”

  Chapter 5

  Cora Greitzer had always been an early riser. Her father had instilled in her a work ethic that had stuck with her for her entire life, rise early, work hard, sleep well, and success will follow. Turns out that the stalwart old chap had been correct, and every member of his family had benefitted hugely from his hard work, as well as their own, so after a sparing breakfast of bran buds with whole milk, and a glass of prune juice,
the healthy elderly woman headed to the store before the sun had even peeked above the horizon.

  Totally oblivious to the dark presence watching her every move, she drove her immaculate sedan to the sweet little shop and parked it as close as she could, using her cane to gingerly alight from the vehicle. She fumbled with her keys for a moment, then fitted the correct ones in the series of locks that secured the establishment from intruders. Cora shuffled slowly inside, closing the door behind her, but leaving it unlocked in case Michael happened to come in early.

  She shook her head sadly, thinking of her wayward grandson, remembering what a sweet child he’d once been. She wondered absently if there was anything she could’ve done to steer his interests and behavior in another direction, a more positive one. She did the best that she could, loving him unconditionally and giving him guidance when he’d sit still long enough to take it. She could only hope that someday, somehow, her efforts would make a difference.

  The elderly shopkeeper bent low over her safe, retrieving a money drawer to take to the cash register with her, when she heard footsteps coming in from the back door. Thinking it was Michael, she swung the thick door to the little safe shut and turn the knob, hurrying from the office to greet her grandson. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw a dapper looking man standing in the hall, looking about the shop.

  She clutched the cash drawer tightly to her chest, fully prepared to throw it at the man and flee, if it became necessary.

  “Oh, dear lady, I apologize if I startled you. I was having a bagel at the shop across the street, and saw the lights come on in here, so I came over to speak with you,” he said smoothly, with a reassuring smile.

  “Well, I’m sorry, but the shop doesn’t open until 8:30. You’ll have to come back then,” she said firmly, returning his smile, but not moving any closer.

  “Oh, I’m not here to shop,” the man replied gently. “There’s been a mistake, you see. My brother brought an item in that belonged to me and sold it to you. He thought that I’d set it aside for a garage sale, but I hadn’t. The piece is very important to me…it was a gift, and I’d like it back. I’m more than willing to pay for it, of course,” he added politely.

  “Oh my, well that’s quite the kettle of fish,” Cora pursed her lips. “Can you describe the piece?”

  “Certainly. It’s a sandalwood trunk, ornately carved and quite fragrant.”

  The shopkeeper nodded. “Oh yes, he brought that in yesterday. I wish that I had known it wasn’t his,” she frowned. “In fact, a very nice lady came in and asked me to put it on hold for her. Well, I guess I’ll just have to call and let her know what happened. You just don’t see a lovely piece like that every day.”

  “Indeed. How much would you like in return for the piece?” the man asked, pulling a money clip featuring a diamond-studded horseshoe on it out of the pocket of his immaculate grey suit pants.

  Cora Greitzer was nothing if not a shrewd business woman. “Well, since I really have no way of knowing that you’re the actual owner of the piece, and I have to go to the trouble of calling an already committed buyer to give them the bad news, I’m going to have to insist that you pay full price for the item.”

  The man’s smile didn’t even flicker. “Certainly. And what would that be?” he opened the money clip that contained nothing but hundred dollar bills.

  “$2300.00,” she replied, her sweet blue eyes steely.

  He blinked at her for a moment. “Fine,” he said, his smile dimming just a bit. He peeled off twenty-three bills and handed them to her.

  “That’s the price before tax, honey. I’m going to have to ring you up. Let’s head over to the cash register,” she shuffled away, still clutching the cash drawer and the man’s money.

  “Actually, madam, I’m rather in a hurry, so here you go,” he replied, peeling off two more bills from his substantial wad of cash. “Keep the change. Now, where is the trunk?”

  “It’s over in that back corner,” she murmured, pointing and looking at him strangely. “But my whole drawer will be thrown off if I don’t give you your change.”

  “Donate the difference to charity, I insist,” he smiled tightly, heading to the part of the shop that she had indicated, and picking up his trunk.

  “Thank you so much for allowing me to take up your time,” he inclined his head politely and made his way to the back door.

  “You’re welcome,” Cora narrowed her eyes, watching him go.

  Chapter 6

  Carrying the trunk back to the mansion built by lies, the man breathed a sigh of relief. Something precious to him had nearly been lost, and had he not recovered it, his life may well have been on the line. There were dangerous games that he was playing, and his clients were not inclined to look favorably upon slight mishaps which could lead to the misplacement of items that were dear to them.

  Setting the heavy sandalwood piece on the granite kitchen countertop, he turned his head aside, nauseated by the organic smell of the piece. Tipping it on its side ever so carefully, more to protect the countertop than in any sense of reverence toward the piece itself, he unsheathed a thin paring knife from the block by the sink, and ran it along a nearly invisible seam in the bottom of the piece – two inches in from the left side, and two inches from the front. Pushing what looked like a short, stocky furniture leg back into the piece with a click, he opened the false bottom of the trunk to make certain that its contents remained safely intact, and discovered that the custom-made compartment was empty.

  A savage fury rocketed through him, turning his face red and causing a vein to throb prominently on his forehead. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he still had an hour and a half before the store opened, and jumped back in his car to pay Cora Greitzer a visit that wouldn’t be quite so cordial this time. The old woman probably thought that she was clever and wanted to hold out for more money. She obviously didn’t know who or what she was dealing with. Those documents were too dear to be bought, for any sum, and if she had read them, buying her silence wasn’t an option.

  **

  Cora Greitzer hadn’t yet had the chance to thoroughly peruse the documents that had been secured in the false bottom of the sandalwood trunk, but she’d seen enough at a glance to know that whoever had stashed them there was up to no good. She planned to read through them this evening, then take them to her safety deposit box at the bank for safekeeping, since technically, she had paid for them.

  When the elderly shopkeeper heard the back door for the second time this morning, she knew that the latest arrival must be Michael, so she continued putting coffee on to brew, and heating hot water for tea. She’d leave Michael in charge later, when she went to fetch some of Missy’s wonderful cupcakes.

  “Nice try, old crone,” came a sinister voice from behind her, making Cora jump a bit. She turned and saw the dapper man from earlier, staring at her.

  “I beg your pardon,” she raised an eyebrow, not intimidated in the least. She’d lived her entire life in the company of powerful men who always got their way.

  “You have something that belongs to me, and you’re going to get it for me, right now,” the man commanded, the phony smile from earlier a ghost that once was.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I won’t stand for your rudeness in my shop. Now, kindly take your leave,” she said firmly, standing her ground.

  “You’re going to get those papers for me, or this is going to get ugly,” the man threatened, his hand moving to a sheathed knife on his hip, undoing the leather guard.

  **

  Michael Greitzer was a sniveling coward. He wanted life to be easy, and became very angry, very easily with anyone who stood in the way of his pursuit of life, liberty and happiness. When he saw the stranger duck into the back door of the shop, he dove under the cot that he slept on whenever he didn’t feel like showing up at his grandmother’s house for free room and board. There were blankets and sheets hanging over the side of the cot that shielded him from view in h
is little corner of the small warehouse, but he was in a position to hear everything that went on.

  He heard the threats, he heard his grandmother’s staunch responses, and he heard the guttural sounds that she made when the savage in the shop slashed her throat. Stuffing his fist against his mouth to keep from crying out in horror, Michael rocked back and forth under the cot, as the stranger wreaked havoc throughout the entire shop, searching for something that would have been easy to find if he’d known that it was right under his nose, or his feet, as it were.

  Cora’s safe was only accessible by pressing a certain section of baseboard, so that a few strips of antique flooring popped up to reveal the combination lock. There were only two people in the world that knew the combination, Cora and Michael, the former having no idea that the latter knew. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if whoever this was killed his grandmother, but still needed access to the safe, they’d be coming after him next.

  In the early hours of morning, still before the store opened, but after the thug who had killed his grandmother had left the building, Michael crept out of his hiding place, and went straight to the safe. He took only the documents that were on top, which were clearly the ones that the killer had been searching for, and all of the cash, leaving the drawer in the register. He carefully replaced the floorboards, took a moment to stand beside the body of the woman who loved him more than anyone ever had, then ran for his life, literally.

  Chapter 7

  It was a lazy Saturday at the Beach House Bed and Breakfast Inn. There were no guests scheduled to come in, and Missy had asked Spencer to open up the cupcake shop so that she could sleep in and then do some grocery shopping. The tall, dark and handsome Chas Beckett had brought his adorably tousled wife breakfast in bed, and the two of them were happily munching yogurt, croissants and fruit, when the detective’s cell phone rang.