A Wonder Springs Cozy Mystery Omnibus: Books 1, 2 & 3

by B. T. Alive

  “I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’ve never set foot inside her house.”

  “You will, okay? I promise. I know her… she just needs to have time to get used to change.”

  “What change? I thought she’s just your boss.”

  “For now,” he said.

  “Whoa, hold up,” I said. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Summer! Geez! What are you thinking? She’s fifty-two years old!”

  “And you’re past thirty,” I said. “If the genders were flipped, you’d be the perfect age for a trophy wife.”

  Cade scowled.

  I hated how it changed his face, like he was transformed into some entirely different person… a man I didn’t know yet, who might have a darker heart.

  “Sorry,” I said quickly. I shifted toward him as we walked, longing to take his hand and reconnect, like every other couple on the planet.

  The proximity buzzed from my shoulder down my side, a faint, silent crackle like the air before a summer storm. For now, for us, this was contact.

  His scowl softened. The Cade I knew was back.

  “She’s running a business,” he said, quietly. “We’re running a business. For now, I’m an employee. But in the future?” He shrugged.

  Now it was my turn to scowl.

  “You mean this whole situation is all about the orchard?” I snapped.

  “I’ve put years of my life into this orchard!” Cade answered.

  By now we actually were walking on the orchard path, surrounded by the trees in the moonlight and shadow.

  “I know you’ve worked hard,” I said. “But it’s all still hers. She owns it. You don’t. And you’re letting her make you keep up this stupid pretense because she might decide to make you Business Partner or Vice President or Orchard Part-Owner Dude or whatever.”

  “I’m not pretending—”

  “The whole town knows, Cade. Those ladies at my class tonight, they all know. Your dad knows. The wizened Maintenance Oracle Guy, who’s like two hundred years old, he knows.”

  “Wait, who?”

  “Everyone. But you’re still going to keep up the show and take her out tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  Cade frowned. “You mean the movie night? Really? That’s what this is about?”

  “It’s just one example, Cade! When you take out your wealthy so-called ‘boss’ for Date Night, people notice.”

  “It’s not a date,” he growled.

  “Great,” I said. “Then she won’t mind if I take a turn.”

  “Summer, please,” he cried, with an urgency so sudden that I stopped in my tracks.

  We were still among dense trees, but I only had five more minutes’ walking at the most before I’d reach the forbidden mansion. I turned and faced him, and I crossed my arms with firm resolve. But inside, I twinged with surprise and even fright at the utter anguish in his face.

  “This place is my life,” he said, his voice low. “She’s been very, very difficult. Please don’t wreck it all. This might be my only shot.”

  “Cade, no,” I said. “You’re fantastic with trees. You could find work anywhere you want.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But it wouldn’t be here.”

  He looked around at his trees, solemn, as if he might be seeing them for the last time. One in particular caught his eye, and he walked toward it off the path. He crouched by the trunk of a gnarled old apple, and scrutinized it closely in the pale white light.

  A tingle of anticipation twitched at the base of my neck, not unmixed with dread. I knew what he was about to do, and I’d seen it more than once. But I didn’t expect I would ever get used it.

  Cade stretched out his hands and held them close to a massive, withered branch near the base of the trunk. The branch was not only dead, but a major part of the ancient tree. If it cracked and opened a hole in the trunk, the tree might die from the wound.

  Then, in his soft, low, rich baritone, he began to sing.

  At the first note, my frustration melted. Not that I thought he was right. But I couldn’t stay angry while I watched him heal.

  His song was new, as it always was. But it also felt eternal, as if he were joining in the refrain that the forest around us had sung from time immemorial, the song you could feel but not quite hear whenever you stepped in their shade… their verse in the music of the spheres.

  As he filled the gleaming night with his wordless song, he moved his hands with expressive gestures just above the surface of the branch.

  Where his fingers passed, the bark smoothed. The dead sticks of thinner branches grew supple, shivering to life in the breeze. Buds sprouted, then whorled into summer leaves before my eyes.

  “Well done,” I murmured. I was nearly whispering, partly out of awe, and partly because I was crying a little, and I didn’t want my voice to crack. I don’t cry much, but I’m a sucker for healing.

  “Thanks,” Cade murmured back, still facing the tree. “So, when should I pick you up tomorrow for that movie?”

  “Really?” I said. “You will?”

  “Sure,” he said, and he twisted back to give me a grin. “If you’ll have me.”

  “I will,” I said. Despite a surge of excitement, my voice came out almost cold. Because we still had one big problem. “But what about Una?” I said.

  “No worries,” he said. “I’ll handle her.”

  “Handle me how?” demanded Una Graves.

  I turned and gaped.

  Yes, the woman in question was standing right there, not ten feet away on the path that, technically, ran right through her orchard. Her thin arms were planted on her narrow hips, and her large eyes were fierce and terrible to behold.

  If Elaine dressed like she had a rich mom who’d neglected her, Una dressed like she was the rich mom. She glimmered with decades of expensive self-care; she’d been aged in money like a fine wine. She was fit and toned, her dyed hair was expertly styled, and even at this hour of the night, her makeup and outfit flattered what was left of her skinny figure.

  (Okay, fine, slender… I’m a fuller-bodied woman myself, always struggling to stay a half-step ahead of my low metabolism.)

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” I said. “I’m Summer.”

  Una ignored me.

  “Cade?” she snapped, in a shrill soprano, striding toward us as Cade fumbled to his feet. “Why weren’t you back for dinner? What is this person doing on the grounds?”

  “This person?” I said.

  She still wouldn’t look at me, but she pulled out a phone. “I’m calling the sheriff.”

  “Oh my gosh,” I said.

  “Una, don’t,” Cade said.

  “Why not?” she said, dialing.

  “Because… see….”

  She glanced up, with an imperious glare.

  “Summer’s my friend,” Cade said. “She likes trees.”

  Una arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Oh, please,” I said, and I zapped her skinny ass.

  “Summer!” Cade yipped, as Una staggered backward, clutching her bare shoulder where I’d given her the poke. At first I thought she might be hurting there, but no, it was just a reflex; she looked dazed and confused, but hardly in pain.

  I’d barely felt a jolt myself. No psychic powers here. (Probably.)

  “Why’d you do that?” he demanded. “I was getting to it!”

  “That’s nice,” I said. “Maybe I’d rather not watch.”

  And I walked away.

  “Summer!” he called. “Summer!”

  But I kept walking, because I didn’t trust myself to talk if I stayed. I really didn’t want my first touch of Cade to be a memory wipe.

  As I went around the bend though, I did sneak a look back into the night.

  Cade had rushed forward to his groggy employer, and he was holding her steady by both bare shoulders, his strong hands pressed against her smooth skin.

  Chapter 8

  I went to bed angry. Even with Mr. Charm asleep on my c
hest, it took at least an hour for his warm purr to seep away the rage and soothe me to sleep.

  But when I woke, a note had been slipped under my door.

  “This is so junior high,” I muttered, as I made a flying leap for the note.

  Hey Summer.

  Sorry I messed up.

  I’ll be at the front desk at a quarter to eight. Looking spiffy.

  Hope you’re there. I’d hate to go to movie night alone.

  —Cade

  “Spiffy?” I said, as my stomach did treacherous cartwheels and my heart did a handstand. “What a goofball.”

  Mr. Charm, who, in my haste, had been somewhat unceremoniously flung, did not deign to respond. He was already asleep again in his own little bed.

  I reread the note, my eyes lingering on that final word, alone.

  It was done, then. He’d finally told Una about us. Hadn’t he? He must have. Even if I pouted and refused to go tonight, he’d be going by himself, alone. No Una.

  But Una would still be there, right? Everyone went to Classic Movie Night. Including Una, and Harriet, and all those other women who’d avoided my eye and thought I’d needed pity. They’d all feast their eyes on Cade and me, together.

  Tonight was going to be fantastic.

  The eight hours of purse retail stretched into twenty, but after a geological era, I finally escaped back up to my room.

  I got as dressed up as I could, in a little black dress that I’d snagged at a thrift store plus a shimmery wrap that maybe matched. The extra layer was annoying and warm, but the last thing I needed was to zap Cade by accident on our first public date.

  I did a full job on my face from the dwindling makeup supply that was still kicking around my purse. When I’d finished, I surveyed my handiwork in a lovely antique mirror that predated the invention of the telephone.

  Wow. Not bad, Summer Sassafras. Not bad at all.

  I rushed out from my room into the Inn hallway, where the ancient wainscotting breathed the scent of old wood and polish, and the dim flickers of the bronze sconces could almost be real gaslight. I was so excited that I literally started skipping in my bare feet, carrying my thrift store heels like a dangling prize as I bounded through the empty hall and then down the creaky spiral staircase, with my free hand sliding along the cool, smooth wooden rail. At the bottom, I slipped on my shoes, walked into the lobby, and swooned.

  Not really. But if I was ever going to, that would have been the time.

  Cade looked spectacular. He was leaning on the lobby’s oaken front desk, with its wall of cubbyholes behind it that looked like something out of a classic movie itself. It’s amazing what a suit coat, a collared shirt, and a shave can do for a man. Also, combing his hair.

  However, after my initial high peaked, and I was once more breathing normally, I saw that he seemed… preoccupied… frowning at his own clenched fists.

  “Cade?” I said, as I clacked up close. “Everything okay?”

  He startled, then took me in. A last lingering scowl flickered over his face, like a cloud passing the sun.

  And then, of all the times it had to happen, my mind went and bubbled up that haunting twang.

  Murder lurks in one you trust.

  I froze.

  But then Cade glowed with a wide smile that could halt a parade.

  “Everything’s great,” he said. “Look at you.”

  Prophecy or no, I burned with pleasure under his respectful but very approving gaze. If we didn’t start moving soon, he was going to start losing his memory right here in the lobby. Over and over…

  We walked outside into a cool Virginia night. All down the street, on both sides of the stream, locals I recognized were waving and chatting, hurrying along to the classic old movie theater. Everyone looked so nice.

  … one you trust… one you trust…

  This was ridiculous. I had to figure this out, before this doubt soured into torment.

  But how could you catch a killer before they even made a move? And anyway, who did I trust? Practically everyone I was walking past. At least, I didn’t distrust them. Everyone I’d met in Wonder Springs seemed pretty decent.

  But now I watched my fellow hustling moviegoers with new, suspicious eyes. Practically the whole town would be here tonight. Maybe if I watched closely enough, I could spot some clue that would reveal the killer and put my mind at rest.

  Or, I might just drive myself crazy…

  By the time we arrived at the movie theater, I’d tallied at least six pedestrians who might conceivably be suspect, due to various tiny “clues” I’d noticed which I’m now too embarrassed to share. But the theater itself was a welcome distraction.

  From the outside, the Wonder Springs Silver Palace looked like any classic Main Street theater. Once you walked in, though, you entered a new world.

  A wide red carpet led through a sumptuous lobby, with a crystal chandelier, bronze lounge chairs, and palm trees. Yes, actual palm trees.

  Then you entered the theater proper. The high screen was massively wide, far bigger than you’d expect for a small-town screen. And instead of cramped rows of sticky, hard seats, the floor featured spacious avenues of recliners. If you were so inclined (or reclined), you could kick back and fall asleep. And each row of seats had its own long table, because the Palace was pleased to offer both dinner and a movie.

  As we walked in and found a pair of seats, the lights were still up, and in the last few minutes before the film, everyone was chatting—standing together in the wide aisles, cradling wine glasses, or leaning over seats to talk to their neighbor. Neighbor… this town really was a community, a place, totally unlike any city I’d ever known.

  How could I be snooping around here for some murderer?

  “You all right?” Cade asked, as he stopped walking near the center of the row of recliners and stood at his chosen seat.

  “Fine,” I said, and I forced a smile. Focus up, Summer, I thought. You’ve been waiting for Cade to show everyone he’s choosing you over Una. Don’t waste tonight now that you’re here.

  I thought again of all those women who’d averted their eyes at my free class, as if I were Cade’s dirty little secret. Tonight, they’d all see that we were officially together in public.

  And just then, whom should I notice but the perfect person to spread the news… Harriet. Gossip extraordinaire.

  She was perched near an entrance, eyes bright, watching the crowd like a lion surveying a grazing herd. Barely a second after I spotted her, she looked right at me, at us, and her eyes went wide with surprise.

  Take a good, long, look, I thought. Meet the newest couple in Wonder Springs: Summer Sassafras and—

  “Cade!” cried a woman who sounded vaguely like a young Madonna. “Oh my gosh! Cade!”

  Beside me, Cade turned away, toward his other side. “Jamie!” he boomed. “Wow!”

  And so I met Jamie.

  She was older than both of us, but not that much… mid-30s at the most, and looking extremely confident in an expensive, drafty outfit that far younger women might hesitate to flaunt. Her pale tundras of exposed skin shone flawless, and her shoulder-length kinky curls were energetically, aggressively blond. Her smile, honestly, would probably have been stunning, if her eyes hadn’t been so cold.

  Not that I was biased.

  “Hi there,” I said, leaning out over the next seat like a desperate dog out a car window. “I guess you know Cade?”

  “Oh hey, Summer, sorry,” Cade said, awkwardly twisting me a glance and then turning back to his blond friend who could be a model. “This is Jamie. Jamie Graves, Una’s niece.”

  Of course she was.

  Cade was already talking to her again. “What are you doing in town?”

  “Oh, you know how it is,” she said, with a playful touch on his sleeve. “A sudden mysterious summons from Auntie Una. No explanation given, just drop everything and buy a plane ticket. It’s not like we have a life.”

  Cade frowned. “We?”


  “Paris too, of course,” Jamie said. “She’s getting in tomorrow. It’s a full family affair, Cade! All two of her surviving kin.”

  The cloud passed again over Cade’s face, darkening like a thunderhead.

  “Hey!” she said, with a radiant smirk. “We’re not that bad, are we? We’re staying at the Inn, of course. No worries there, Cuddly.”

  “Cuddly?” I said.

  Cade flushed, and looked displeased. Officially. “It’s a stupid old nickname,” he said.

  “From way back,” Jamie said, with an impish grin. She rubbed his shoulder, and as their gazes met, she gave his well-endowed muscle a little squeeze.

  Then the house lights blinked, and everyone around scurried to their seats, taking the signal that the show was about to start.

  “So, what are we watching?” Jamie said. “Some old Frank Capra flick, right? You Can’t Take It With You?”

  And she plopped right down in the seat next to Cade.

  “Um,” I said.

  “Oh,” Cade said. “Ah.”

  “Didn’t Capra do It’s A Wonderful Life?” Jamie said. She laughed and crossed her gleaming legs, swinging her pedicured toes inches from the standing Cade’s calf. “I must be the only person I know who can’t stand that movie.”

  “Huh,” Cade said.

  She shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just honest.”

  The house lights blinked again, and went dark.

  But not before I saw Harriet, on the far side of the theater, watching our threesome with fervent glee.

  Chapter 9

  Because I am not a completely horrible person, I will spare you the details of the next two hours.

  Describing murder is one thing, but non-stop whispered commentary on a perfectly nice old Capra movie? An author’s got to draw the line somewhere.

  I’d braced myself for Jamie to cling to Cade for the rest of the evening, and possibly the rest of his life. But as soon as the lights went up, she was fumbling together her things and granting him a last, breathy, lingering goodbye, with a promise to meet again before she left town.