Sapphire Beach Cozy Mystery Collection

by Angela K Ryan

  "She said it was to remind me that I was never alone, that there were angels who had made the journey to Florida with me. Since it was that statuette that helped Connie figure out who the killer was, I can't help but think that Concetta is now watching over us along with the angels."

  Warmth spread across Connie's chest. "There's not a doubt in my mind."

  "Well, I, for one, have had enough of all this talk of murder," Grace said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "I understand Connie has some news to share."

  Chapter 22

  Elyse took that as her cue. She leapt up from her seat to retrieve a document from a leather binder. A wide grin spread across her face as she placed it on the coffee table facing Connie and handed her a pen. "It's all set to go."

  Connie eagerly signed the paper, then proudly lifted it high. "I am now officially the tenant of a shop in downtown Sapphire Beach."

  A squeal escaped from Grace as she grabbed Connie's arm. "You're staying with us?"

  "More like coming back," Connie said, unable to suppress her smile. "I'm still leaving for Boston in the morning. I have to sell my condo and train my replacement at Feeding the Hungry. I haven't yet worked out the exact timeline, but I'm hoping to be back in a couple of months to start setting up shop. Literally."

  Connie cast a furtive glance in Zach's direction, who was smiling from ear to ear.

  "Does this mean you’re opening a jewelry shop after all? I don't understand," he said. "I thought you weren't ready to give up your humanitarian work."

  Emma came running in from the other room. "Did I hear Connie is staying?"

  "We're waiting to hear the details, honey," Gertrude said.

  All eyes were on Connie.

  "That's the best part. I'll still be doing what I love, but it will just look a little different. I was in communication with some contacts in Kenya and my boss, Sam, who has numerous connections in Central and South America, and the plan is to open a jewelry shop, which, in addition to selling jewelry that I'll make, will have a substantial section devoted to selling Fair Trade jewelry. Hopefully as time goes on, I can expand the Fair Trade portion."

  Elyse gasped. "What an amazing idea."

  "It's the best of both worlds,” Gertrude said. “Between residents and tourists, you should do well. You can count on me to tell all my friends about it, dear."

  The others nodded and agreed to help spread the word.

  Connie gave them a grateful smile. "Over the next couple of months, with Sam's help, I'll identify promising artisans in developing countries and get them set up in safe working conditions and producing jewelry. Then I will purchase it at a fair price and sell it in the shop. I hope to bring some unique accessories to Sapphire Beach and to sell online, as well. The proceeds from the sale of my condo in Boston should be more than enough to get things off the ground, especially with the competitive price Elyse got me on the rent."

  "What a perfect way to bring together two of your passions," Stephanie said. "Your jewelry is beautiful. I can't wait to shop there."

  Connie smiled mischievously at Elyse and then looked back at Stephanie. "I see your taste in jewelry is better than your taste in men."

  "You can say that again," Grace said, shaking her head.

  Stephanie made a fist and pretended she was about to punch Connie. "I would hit you on the back of your head if you weren't recovering from a concussion," she said.

  "Okay, okay," Connie said, solemnly raising her right hand. "I promise, I will never mention your relationship with Hank again. It's buried with the dead."

  "Agreed," Elyse and Grace said in unison.

  Connie was thrilled at everyone's reaction to her idea. It was the first time she shared her plans with anyone in Sapphire Beach, and she was ecstatic at their support.

  She had had a long conversation with her parents and sister the previous night, and, while they would miss her, they said it was better than losing her to another country. "Besides," Jo said, "it's only a short flight away, and we've been doing it for years."

  Deep down, it felt like the right move. Fr. Paul had reminded her on Sunday that she would recognize the next chapter in her life by the peace that would accompany her decision. And he was right. She had the same quiet certitude as when she left for Africa for her term of service after college and when she took her job with Feeding the Hungry. Fear and excitement, along with deep peace, coexisted within her.

  "Will you teach me how to make jewelry like the bracelet you gave me?" Emma asked, pulling Connie from her thoughts.

  "You bet," she said, gently squeezing her hand. "Once I get set up, you can come by the shop, and I'll teach you how to make anything you want."

  Connie sat down next to Grace and pulled Ginger onto her lap. "Do you think you could take this sweet girl for another couple of months? After that I'll be able to keep her and take her to the shop with me."

  Grace scratched Ginger behind her ears. "Oh, I think I can manage that."

  "There's one more thing," she said to Grace, putting Ginger back on the floor. "Getting this business off the ground isn't something I can do alone. Between setting up artisans, making jewelry, and running the business, I will need some help manning the shop. Would you consider leaving your job at the coffee shop and working with me instead?"

  Grace put both hands over her heart. "Honey, I would be honored to be part of this project. Concetta really is watching out for me. She knew I needed something to fill the void she left in my heart when she went to her reward, so she sent you," she said, her voice quivering.

  "Welcome to Sapphire Beach, Connie," Zach said, as he opened a bottle of champagne that Connie had set aside.

  Elyse handed out the glasses.

  "Maybe I can help you cross parasailing off your bucket list sometime in the near future," Zach said, pouring Connie's first.

  When he finished, Connie raised her glass. "To new beginnings," she said, smiling at Stephanie.

  "To new beginnings," they all toasted.

  When she took the first sip of her champagne, out of the corner of her eye she caught Elyse and Josh sharing a glance that was clearly meant to communicate something. She put her glass down and studied them for a moment. "Okay, what's up with you two?"

  "Are you going to tell her, or should I?" Josh said. "She needs to know."

  "Alright," Elyse said, holding Connie’s gaze. "The reason I was able to get you such a good deal on the shop is that the last tenant up and vanished about eight months ago, and nobody knows for sure what happened. Josh thinks you might want to reconsider the location of your shop."

  “Oh, was there some sort of problem with the building?” Connie asked

  “We don’t think so,” Elyse said. “According to the landlord, the tenant seemed happy there, but then six months ago, she suddenly disappeared without a trace. The police investigated, but they never figured out what happened.”

  "Is that all?" Connie asked. She leaned toward Grace. "Sounds like another Sapphire Beach mystery. It’s a good thing we don’t scare easily, right Grace?"

  "You bet, sweetheart," Grace said, with a firm nod. "We're here to stay."

  The End

  Surf, Sand

  and Skeletons

  (Book 2)

  Chapter 1

  With throbbing feet and sore arms, Connie Petretta plopped down onto a metal folding chair to give her aching body a rest from scrubbing clean every inch of the eight-hundred-square-foot shop that would soon be the home of Just Jewelry, her handmade jewelry business. She was exhausted, but the satisfaction she felt from the hard work was reminiscent of the long days she spent volunteering in Africa after college. Like then, the job was tiresome, but her passion for the work carried her through.

  That, and the knowledge that in a few short hours she would be spending the evening overlooking the Gulf of Mexico with friends in the beachfront condo she had recently inherited from her aunt and namesake Concetta Belmonte.

  Since her return to Sapphire Beach a fe
w days before, Connie had been counting down the minutes to when she could catch up with her cherished friends. It had only been three months since they were last all together, but it seemed like a year.

  Relocating from Boston to southwest Florida was a bold move, but she couldn't wait to begin living her new dream of selling Fair Trade jewelry and her own handmade pieces to the residents and tourists who flocked to picturesque downtown Sapphire Beach. She had the urge to pinch herself to be sure she wasn't dreaming, but her weary body assured her she was well-grounded in reality.

  "I think I'll join you, honey," Grace Jenkins, her only employee and one of the friends who would be coming to dinner, called from across the shop. Grace had been Concetta's best and most loyal friend, never leaving her side during her brief battle with cancer.

  Connie pulled open another metal folding chair for Grace before going out back for a couple of glasses of iced tea. She was glad she thought to have a refrigerator delivered first thing upon her arrival.

  "Grace, you have been here well beyond the twenty hours per week I'm paying you for," Connie said, handing her a glass and easing back into the chair.

  Grace held up her palm to Connie and turned her face away. "You know how much I believe in this store," she said. "I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else."

  The caffeine in the black tea, which she had brewed extra strong that morning, knowing it would be a long day, was kicking in nicely. Connie put her empty glass on the floor and retrieved her laptop from the circular counter in the middle of the store, which would soon serve as the checkout area.

  She opened the flyer she had been working on for the grand opening and felt a surge of excitement, which magnified her caffeine boost. She couldn't wait to show off her shop to the Sapphire Beach community.

  "I scheduled the grand opening for the first Saturday in April, a couple of weeks before The Great Lexodus," Connie said, the expression causing a smirk to push its way onto her lips. The Great Lexodus, as Aunt Concetta had explained one time, was when the snowbirds headed north, many in their luxury cars, to return home in time for Easter and to escape the brutally hot summer months in subtropical Florida. "That will give me the slower summer months to restock inventory in time for their return."

  After all the packing and unpacking, Connie was looking forward to spending those hot and humid summer days creating jewelry in the comfort of the air-conditioned shop. But for now, her focus was on the grand opening and all the preparations that had to take place in the two weeks and three days between now and then.

  In addition to getting the physical store set up and all the advertising that had to happen, there was her website to think about, online venues, and photos for social media. With so many tasks swirling around in her mind like an ocean whirlpool, she constantly had the feeling she was forgetting something.

  The sound of the door chime pulled them from their conversation. It was her contractor, Steve, a dark-haired man wearing jeans and a white polo shirt. With him was a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties, her shoulder-length blond hair tied back with a lime-green bandanna. Connie had hired Steve to oversee the renovations while she was back in Boston selling her condo and training her successor at Feeding the Hungry, the non-profit where she had worked for the past twelve years.

  Connie stood to greet him. "Everything looks fabulous, Steve."

  "I know we've talked extensively over the phone," he said, "but I wanted to stop by now that you're back in town to be sure you were happy with the work and to introduce you to one of my carpenters, Brittany. She's been working on another job, but she'll be helping me knock off the final punch list."

  "It's great to meet you," Connie said, shaking Brittany's hand. "I'm thrilled to be working with a female carpenter. You don't see that often enough."

  Brittany smiled warmly. "A good friend and mentor helped me to see that I am capable of accomplishing anything I set my mind to."

  Steve took a quick walk around the store. "I can't believe you got this place cleaned so quickly. I thought you'd want to hire someone to take care of that."

  "Absolutely not," Grace interjected, putting an arm around Connie's shoulders. "There's no need to pay for something we can do ourselves."

  Connie was pleased with the finishes she had chosen. The fresh coat of baby-blue paint against the driftwood accent wall gave the interior of the store a beachy vibe, while the hardwood floors, freshly sanded and stained, still held some of the nicks and scratches from years of wear and tear. Connie had elected not to replace them because of the history and character they contained. And the brushed gold and crystal chandelier above the circular checkout counter added a touch of elegance. Connie had dubbed the style 'beachy-glam.'

  Of course, any remodel, beachy-glam or otherwise, was expensive. Fortunately, she had the money from the sale of her condo back in Boston to get her started, while she got everything off the ground. And she would be eternally grateful to her aunt for leaving her the beachfront condo mortgage-free.

  "You did an amazing job, Steve. Every time I look at those empty shelves, I feel like a child on Christmas morning. I can't wait to stock them with jewelry and for the furniture to arrive tomorrow."

  "There's just a small punch list left," Steve said. "Brittany or I will be in before the end of the week to complete it. Just be careful. There are a couple of loose floorboards out back in the storage area," he said as they were leaving.

  By the time Connie and Grace finished cleaning the last few spots, not even the afternoon sun streaming through the windows could find a speck of dirt. They gave each other a tired high-five and decided to call it a day.

  Connie stayed behind to snap a few pictures for her social media pages that showed the store’s progress to her growing number of followers.

  "I'm going to head out, honey, and take a hot bath before dinner tonight," Grace said. "What can I bring?"

  "Nothing. Everything is taken care of. Just come."

  After Grace left, Connie wandered out back to the storage room to look through some of her inventory. Metal shelving wrapped around the ten-by-ten room, where, in addition to product, she stored beads, pliers, tweezers, and other jewelry-making tools and supplies.

  In addition to showcasing her talent for making stunning jewelry, a skill that Connie learned while volunteering and living in Kenya after college, Just Jewelry would also provide much-needed work for women in developing countries through the Fair Trade portion of the store. It was the perfect way to combine her love of jewelry-making with her passion for humanitarian work.

  In choosing artisans to supply her jewelry, Connie had started with the communities in Africa where she already had connections. Her former boss, Sam O'Neil, also connected her with some of his associates in South America, where he had spent a year before leaving a successful corporate career to found Feeding the Hungry. The boxes of bracelets, necklaces, and earrings had arrived safely by way of Grace's apartment and sat tucked away and unopened in the storeroom.

  In addition, between everything else taking place back home in Boston, Connie had been hard at work every spare moment creating jewelry over the past few months and shipping items that she had already made. Some of the more intricate necklaces had taken her more than thirty hours to create, while other smaller pieces, such as earrings, had taken less than an hour. It was no small feat getting the store stocked and ready for the grand opening. Fortunately, the initial rush wouldn't last too long, and she would have the summer to restock, hopefully with a better sense of what sells in Sapphire Beach.

  As she looked at the boxes, Connie couldn't contain herself. She just had to open at least one or two. She got a key from her purse and cut through the packing tape on one of the boxes from Kenya. Hidden among the one-of-a-kind necklaces, earrings, and bracelets was a note from her longtime friend, Dura, whom she had met while serving in Kenya. Dura was her own age, thirty-four, and was the first person to teach her how to make jewelry. She was also instrumental in identifying loca
l artisans for Connie's new venture. Warmth spread through Connie's chest as she read Dura's note: Praying for you and your important venture, my friend.

  The second box was filled with a colorful array of jewelry from Ecuador. The blue, green, yellow, and orange hues took her breath away. They would be a perfect alternative to the earthier tones of the Kenyan jewelry. Connie carefully rewrapped them until she could properly display them on her shelves, and after a few minutes of further exploration, she put back the boxes and forced herself to leave. She still had dinner to prepare for company that evening. There would be plenty of time to admire each piece as she stocked the shelves.

  On her way out, Connie absentmindedly stepped on one of the loose boards that Steve had warned her about, stumbling across the storeroom. Good thing nobody was around to see that graceful move.

  When she stooped down to take a closer look, she noticed that not only were two of the wooden floorboards loose, but they also seemed to sink a little in the middle. She pulled them up and immediately saw the problem. A portion of the subfloor beneath the wooden planks had been cut out. She reached her hand into the hole and felt around. She had to reach way in, but eventually her hand hit a plastic storage box. She pulled out the box and popped open its blue cover.

  She discovered a leather-bound notebook that looked like a diary, what appeared to be an old-fashioned financial ledger, and a pad of white-lined paper that contained a to-do list. She sat cross-legged on the floor to examine its contents more closely.

  Chapter 2

  Connie pulled out the financial ledger first and flipped through the dusty pages. Judging from the name, "Natasha's Boutique" written across the top of the first page, it looked to be the financial records of the previous shop owner. Connie knew that the shop had formerly been a women's clothing store, and Natasha Orlov, the previous owner, had disappeared without a trace less than a year ago. But beyond that, she didn't know much about Natasha or her shop. Why would Natasha keep a hard copy of her financials when everyone seemed to use computer records these days?