Murder in Cottonwood Springs: A Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery (Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series Book 1)

by Dianne Harman

  MURDER IN COTTONWOOD SPRINGS

  By

  Dianne Harman

  (A Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery - Book 1)

  Copyright © 2018 Dianne Harman

  www.dianneharman.com

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Paperback ISBN:

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Welcome to the first book in the Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series. My childhood was spent in Denver and as a court-appointed conservator for my elderly grandparents, I spent a lot of time in Colorado as an adult.

  I’ve always loved the Rocky Mountains and have thought for several years that I needed to have a series set there, and here it is! So, to all the relatives and people in Colorado who have so graciously opened your homes and hearts to me, thank you!

  And to you, my readers: I value each and every one of you. I truly appreciate your continued support, your feedback, and your ideas for future books that I may write.

  As always a thank you to those people who see my books from the start through publication, Connie, Vivek, and of course, Tom, my enthusiastic in-house editor.

  Hope you enjoy the read!

  Free Paperbacks

  I'm giving away FREE Paperbacks. Find out more at www.dianneharman.com/freepaperback.html

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  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

  EPILOGUE

  RECIPES

  ABOUT DIANNE

  Coming Soon!

  PROLOGUE

  Lucy finished washing out the mixing bowl she’d used to make her favorite chocolate peanut butter cookies and put it in the wire mesh dish rack sitting on her wooden counter. The kitchen was one of her favorite places in the Hillcrest Bed & Breakfast, with its country décor and state-of-the-art conveniences. The entire house had been designed with a rustic feel, accentuated with displays of artifacts from the local Ute Indian tribe. Most of the artifacts on display were things her parents had picked up during their travels before they’d opened the B & B.

  She was looking forward to the monthly book club meeting this evening and watching her friends devour her cookies. This particular type of cookie was her absolute favorite, and she knew if she didn’t stop eating them right now, none would be left for them. Feeling righteous for making such a tough decision, she grabbed one last cookie, feeling she deserved it as a reward for the time and effort she’d put into baking the cookies.

  The oven timer dinged, indicating that the last batch of cookies was ready to be taken out of the oven and cooled. When she was finished, she walked down the hall to her office where her computer was located, since she wanted to see if any more guests were scheduled to check in that evening. From what she saw, it looked like the two couples who had already checked in were the only people who would be spending the night at the B & B.

  When they checked in she’d given them keys to the front door, so she could lock it when she went out or to bed. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the doors of the B & B unlocked. Cottonwood Springs, Colorado was a small town, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have its fair share of crime. People were people whether they lived in a small town or a large city. Her brother, Rich, was the local county sheriff, and the stories he’d told her had only confirmed that yes, there was a fair amount of crime in Cottonwood Springs.

  She headed back to the kitchen, glad the only meal she had to prepare for them was breakfast. She used to provide dinner for the guests, but she’d learned the hard way that when people came to this part of Colorado, they wanted to spend time in the mountains. Getting back to the B & B at a certain time for dinner was simply not a priority for them.

  Lucy didn’t mind, because it was one less thing she had to think about, plus she didn’t have to get rid of uneaten meals. She’d gotten tired of taking leftover, or rather, uneaten food, to the church in hopes they could find a use for it. There was more than enough for her to do just taking care of the paperwork involved with the B & B and making breakfast for the guests.

  She reached into the cabinet and pulled out her favorite cookie jar with a large beautiful deer emblazoned on the front of it. She glanced over at the big red clock above the oven and thought, I wonder where Henri is? He’d been gone a lot recently, often not returning to the B & B until late at night. He usually said something about how time had gotten away from him or something equally dismissive.

  As she carefully placed the cooled cookies in the jar, she began to worry. Maybe I should start paying more attention to him, she thought. He’s seemed so distant lately. Her mind began to wander, and she wondered if he was cheating on her. Maybe he’d met some young thing and was having a passionate love affair while she was at the B & B making chocolate peanut butter cookies.

  The more she thought about it, the more she decided it was definitely a possibility. It would explain the distance that she felt had developed between the two of them. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love. More often than not he found some reason to be away from the B & B once he’d finished his work for the day.

  Lucy looked down at her clothes and sighed deeply. She hated to admit it, but she looked frumpy. There was no other word for it. She’d gotten used to wearing comfortable clothes, clothing that was functional. Certainly the clothing she had on was not going to appeal to a man. There was nothing feminine or sexy about baggy, worn-out blue jeans and large faded tee shirts or sweat shirts if it was a cold day. Maybe that was part of the problem with Henri. She’d definitely let herself go over the last few years when it came to wearing attractive clothes.

  She set the cookie jar on the counter and headed towards her room in the back of the B & B to change clothes. When Henri gets home tonight, I’ll have a talk with him, she decided. It was time to do something about their relationship. Even if she started wearing more attractive clothes and fixed herself up, she wasn’t sure that was going to cure the problem. She knew he wasn’t thrilled with running the B & B with her. He hadn’t really wanted to come to the United States to be with her. Maybe he regretted the decision he’d made long ago.

  Lucy remembered how romantic it had been when she’d met him. She was spending a college semester in France, and he’d begged her to stay. She was seriously considering it, but when her parents were killed in a terrible auto accident on an icy mountain road, staying was not an option. She had to return to Cottonwood Springs, take over the B & B, and become a stand-in parent for her younger brother. France was no longer an option.

  She knew the only reason Henri had co
me to the United States was because he’d loved her and wanted to marry her. After several years, she’d become aware that Henri didn’t like his role as the handyman for the B & B. She wasn’t sure if it was taking orders from her, being somewhere he didn’t want to be, or maybe both. In any case, in the last few years he’d become withdrawn and sullen.

  She was sorry he didn’t like it in Cottonwood Springs, but what could she do about it? She loved Henri and understood that he wanted to live where he considered his true home to be, and for him that meant France. But what about her? Surely Henri didn’t expect her to move to France and sell the B & B.

  She opened her closet door and pulled out a pale blue sweater and a reasonably new pair of jeans. She tugged off the clothes she was wearing, which were covered in flour and who knew what else, before tossing them in the clothes hamper. As she pulled the sweater over her head, she noticed a photo of Henri and her hanging on the wall that had been taken when they were in France. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  They were both smiling, her chestnut-colored hair shining in the sun. They were between classes sitting on a campus bench. She thought about the way they’d been then and the way they were now. If they’d felt like that once, surely they could get those feelings back if they both tried. More than anything else, she wanted that feeling back, the feeling the happy-go-lucky couple in the photo had felt back in their college days.

  She felt much better as she sat down on the end of her bed and slipped on her shoes. No matter what was going on between them, she was confident they could turn things around. He’d been madly in love with her once. After all, he’d followed her all the way to Colorado and they’d gotten married. That had to mean something. When they talked tonight she’d tell him how much she loved him, and how important their marriage was to her. For the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful about their relationship.

  Lucy had a spring in her step as she headed down the hall and back towards the kitchen. She was putting the last of the cookies in the cookie jar, thinking of all the nice things she could say to Henri about improving their relationship when she heard a knock on the kitchen side door. She assumed one of the guests had forgotten their key. Smiling, she unlocked the door and turned the knob. As she opened it, some sort of substance was sprayed in her face. Her hands instinctively flew to her eyes, rubbing them to get rid of it. It burned and tears began streaming down her face.

  She backed away, afraid of getting sprayed again. Lucy struggled to open her eyes, but she couldn’t stand the pain. As she blindly stepped backwards to put distance between herself and the attacker who had sprayed her, she tripped, tumbling to the floor. Again she attempted to open her eyes. The pain was unbearable. The last thing she felt was a rag being held tightly over her nose and mouth that smelled foul. She tried to hold her breath, but as she fought to get away from it, she inhaled more of the fumes coming from it. It wasn’t long, only a minute or so, before she was unconscious.

  The intruder continued to hold the rag over Lucy’s face until she stopped breathing and clearly was dead. It only took a few minutes. The murderer looked around the kitchen to make sure no clues had been left. Spying the cookie jar, the killer carefully lifted the lid with a handkerchief and took one cookie, then turned and walked out the door. The killer casually headed into the woods behind the B & B, making it look like just another guest from the B & B was out for a walk on a beautiful clear late afternoon, enjoying a cookie.

  CHAPTER 1

  Brigid Barnes sighed deeply with relief as she broke down the last large cardboard box. She’d finally finished unpacking everything. The next thing she had to decide was where to put it all. She brushed her deep red hair out of her emerald green eyes. For the first time she felt like she was finally settling into her new chalet home in Cottonwood Springs, and it was a good feeling.

  “That’s the last of it, Jett,” she said to the big Newfoundland dog lying on the loveseat in the corner. She’d never had a dog before but when the previous owners told her they had to get rid of him, she offered on the spur-of-the-moment to take him along with the house. They were thrilled with her offer and happy the big dog could stay in familiar surroundings.

  It was as if there was a bond between the two of them, and she’d quickly become fast friends with the huge dog. To be honest, when she’d seen him for the first time, she was sure he was some sort of a small horse. Certainly not a dog. She’d heard of big dogs like Great Danes, but she’d never seen one in person. This big dog was really big, no, he was more than just big, he was huge, but he was really sweet and had a wonderful disposition.

  She walked through the large, open kitchen as she headed to the garage to get rid of the packing box. It felt so good to finally get completely unpacked and begin to settle into her new home. On the outside it looked like a small ski chalet with its sloping roof and large, picturesque windows which looked out on the forest around her property. The home was located on the outskirts of Cottonwood Springs, so she had an uninterrupted view of the mountains and forest, including Mt. Monarch, which was at the top of the continental divide.

  The killer view was part of the reason she’d been so interested in the house when the real estate agent had first told her about it. The first thing someone saw when they stepped through the front door was the amazing view, along with a sprawling great room which blended with the open concept kitchen. Down the hall were two bedrooms and her office. At the end of the hall was a bathroom with a jetted shower and a window overlooking the mountains. There was another large bathroom adjacent to her bedroom which provided a magnificent view of the forest.

  Brigid was glad to be back in Colorado after more years than she cared to count in Los Angeles. In the beginning she’d enjoyed the endless things one could do there, but it wasn’t long before the glitz and glamour had faded. She’d started noticing all the homeless people, the dirty streets, and the sadness in people’s eyes, wondering what had become of the riches they’d expected to find there. Growing up as a small-town girl, Los Angeles had seemed larger than life in the beginning. Like so many people, she’d seen it as an escape - a place with far more opportunity than the little town of Cottonwood Springs could offer.

  With time, she did find success as a book editor, but her love of the city had faded. Brigid had thought of leaving L.A., but she didn’t want to start all over again. It took time to become a successful editor. When the publishing company she’d been working for suddenly went bankrupt, she realized she’d be able to keep her author clients.

  She’d signed a non-competition clause with the publishing company when she was hired that would have forced her to leave the authors she did work for behind if she left the company, but since the publisher was now out of business, that no longer applied. With her work being done mainly by computer, she could live and work anywhere. About the same time the company went bankrupt, her husband divorced her. Her sister, Fiona, urged her to come home to Cottonwood Springs, and Fiona didn’t have to ask her twice. For Brigid, it was the perfect time to move back to her hometown.

  Brigid slowly walked into the kitchen. Earlier she’d taken all the pots, pans, plates, and silverware out of their boxes, planning to find the perfect place to put each one when she finished unpacking everything. She opened the white cabinet doors, and was wiping them out, one at a time, when she heard a knock on the front door.

  Jett hopped off his loveseat, wagging his tail, and ran over to the door. “Calm down big guy,” she said as she leaned down to scratch his ears. He bumped his nose affectionately against her jeaned hip. It wasn’t the first time she thought perhaps she was a little crazy for having a dog that weighed more than she did. Since he wasn’t growling or barking, she took that as a good sign.

  She opened the door and saw a tall man who looked to be in his 40’s standing there. His wavy dark hair was greying around the temples, but that was the only thing that betrayed his age. His broad chest was muscled, and he looked extremely fit. She assumed he was probably a
n outdoor sports enthusiast like so many of the fit guys in Colorado seemed to be. She thought he probably skied in the winter, hiked in the summer, and hunted in the fall. His suntanned skin highlighted the slight stubble growing on his chin.

  “Hi,” he said with a warm smile. “Welcome to Cottonwood Springs. I’m one of your neighbors and thought I’d stop by to introduce myself. I’m Linc Olson.” He held out a bottle of wine. “And I come bearing gifts.”

  Brigid smiled at him. “People who come bearing gifts are always welcome. Please, come in.” One of the perks of living in the Colorado mountains, was that the term neighbor didn’t mean quite what it had back in Los Angeles. Here, there was about an acre of land surrounding each home, rather than a few feet. It left quite a bit of space between homes, and it wasn’t uncommon to rarely see your neighbors. Even so, as Brigid led Linc into her great room, she couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t mind seeing a bit more of this neighbor now and then. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, but a little male companionship would be nice.

  “I’m almost finished putting things away, and this is a perfect excuse for me to take a break,” she said as she took two wine glasses from the large china cabinet. She put them down on the glass table and sat down in a large brown and white plaid armchair beside the beige couch where Linc was sitting. Linc opened the bottle with a wine opener he’d brought with him and poured them each a glass.

  “To you and your new home,” he said as he raised his glass and looked around. “I really like what you’re doing with the place, and your furniture works well with it.” Jett nudged Linc’s hand with his nose. “And I see you’re keeping Jett. Is that a permanent arrangement?” he asked, laughing at the dog’s insistent nudging.

  “Yeah, the previous owners moved to a condo in Denver and couldn’t take him with them. They were planning on selling him or taking him to a shelter, but I offered to take him. I met him the first time I looked at the house, and we became fast friends.” She smiled at the big dog. “I’ve always wanted a dog, I just never expected to get one with a house, and certainly not one that’s this big,” she said, laughing.