Ravenwood Cove Cozy Mysteries Books 1-3

by Carolyn L. Dean

  “Would you mind me coming in to take a look at the safe?”

  Mrs. Welch looked startled at James’ request, opening her mouth to respond then clapping it shut. After a second’s pause, she said, “I’m so sorry, but I’ve just had the carpets cleaned and they’re still damp. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be possible for me to invite visitors inside today.”

  She nodded at the shivering couple, her thin lips curved up but her voice serious. “Thank you so much for bringing Moonlight back. I’m sorry, but I have to go now.”

  James stepped toward her, about to ask another question, but Mrs. Welch had already turned and sidestepped through the barely-open doorway, closing it behind her with a loud click.

  Amanda glanced at James, who was looking thoughtful. “Okay, that was weird,” he finally said.

  She knew he was pondering their odd encounter, but after standing on the windswept porch for so long, she had just one thing on her mind.

  “Hey, I’m freezing. Last one to the car buys lunch!” she said as she sprinted toward the still-warm SUV, her keys in hand. There was a bark of laughter and she heard the thunder of cowboy boots on the concrete, trying to catch up to her as she ran. They reached the car at the same time, James successfully getting in before she was able to push the button to lock him out.

  “You’re weird, lady.”

  She smiled as she turned on the ignition. “You keep saying that, but you also keep asking me out. What does that say about you?”

  He laughed, but was quiet for a couple of minutes as she drove back toward the main part of town. “You ever heard of anyone shampooing their carpets in the middle of December?”

  “In LA maybe, but not around here.” Even though the weather was dryer than it had been in weeks, the winter chill was settling on the small town like a blanket. “I’d think she’d want to clean her carpets when the weather’s warm, so she could open her windows and let everything dry faster. Even with a good cleaning machine there’s still a lot of water left behind.”

  “Exactly.” He leaned back in his seat. “Mrs. Welch really didn’t want us in her house, and I’d certainly love to know why.”

  Chapter 12

  There were definitely worse ways to spend a spare few minutes on a cold morning than sitting next to Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Bitterman in Petrie’s general store. The old, wooden benches were warm next to the pot-bellied stove, and Amanda welcomed a break in her errands to sit and catch up on the local gossip. Petting Brian Petrie’s gray cat, she couldn’t help but admire how industrious both of the older ladies were. They were busy knitting while chatting, and Amanda suddenly wished that she hadn’t given up when her friend Beth had tried to teach her how to knit a couple of years before.

  “I don’t know how you can deal with all those guests you have at the Ravenwood Inn,” Mrs. Bitterman commented as she expertly looped a bit of yarn around her knitting needle. “It must be difficult with all those strangers coming and going and asking questions about what to do in the area. Don’t you get tired of cleaning up after everyone?”

  Amanda laughed softly and took one of the frosted cashew cookies that Mrs. Bitterman offered. “Actually, I love it. I can have as many people stay as I want, and if I need a day or two off I just say the Inn’s fully booked. Also“— she commented, waving her cookie at the rapt audience in front of her— “so far all my guests have been pretty nice. I’ve had a couple that started off cranky but even they relaxed enough that they were in a better mood by the end of their stay.”

  Mrs. Granger nodded, her eyes intent on the half-formed scarf she was knitting. “They were all nice except for that hit man guy. I didn’t approve of him at all.”

  Amanda laughed. “Well, except for him, yes.”

  “And it must help to have Jennifer Peetman working with you at the Inn, too, doesn’t it?”

  “She’s a sweetheart,” Mrs. Bitterman pronounced, setting down her yarn and picking up her mug of hot apple cider.

  Amanda opened her mouth to reply but Mrs. Granger cut her off. “Okay,” she said, looking over the top of her reading glasses. “Let’s get down to brass tacks. What’s going on with you and James? He’s almost like part of my family, you know, and I’d like to think that you’re a nice girl who appreciates a nice boy.”

  “Well—“ Amanda struggled for a response, “— we’re dating.”

  The old lady rolled her eyes and Mrs. Bitterman giggled.

  Mrs. Granger got right to the point. “I know that. The whole of Ravenwood Cove knows that. What I mean is, what are your intentions?”

  Amanda couldn’t hold back her surprise. “You mean…you mean you want to know if I’m going to make an honest man out of him?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Um…”

  Mrs. Granger leaned forward, her knitting forgotten. “Spill it, girlie. What’s the scoop with you two?”

  Amanda suppressed a grin. “I can tell you one thing.”

  The old lady’s face was expectant. “What?”

  “He’s an amazing kisser.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the look of disgust she got from the old lady, who shook her knitting at Amanda for emphasis. “There are some things I just don’t need to know, thank you very much. I prefer to think of him as the sweet boy that I helped raise.”

  “What did you think I was going to tell you? That I was pregnant with twins?” Amanda leaned over and gave Mrs. Granger a peck on the cheek. “He’s a nice guy and I like him. That’s it. If anything ever happens that’s big news, I promise you’ll be the first to know, okay? Just don’t hold your breath.”

  That seemed to satisfy Mrs. Granger and she winked at Amanda. After a few more minutes of chatting, and learning about Grace TwoHorses’ new venture selling Kazoodles’ toys on a website and that Heinrich’s Pizzeria had passed a surprise health inspection with a perfect score of one hundred percent, Amanda gathered her things to go. She was just standing and saying her goodbyes when Solomon Culpepper walked by their cozy little spot. He was carrying a full armload of boxed Christmas lights but he set them down on the top of a nearby oak barrel so he could greet the ladies.

  Mrs. Granger kept knitting but crooked a finger at him, pointing toward the boxes. “Looks like you’re ‘bout ready for Christmas, Solomon. What’re you working on today?”

  “Just putting some lights up for Jeff at the butcher shop. I guess he didn’t think that smoked hams and hanging sausage links were quite festive enough so I’m going to install a new electrical outlet for the front display window.” Solomon dug around in the front pocket of his overalls and pulled out a card. He handed it to a surprised Amanda.

  “If you ever need any help around the Inn, anything at all, you can call me. I have special winter rates right now, and I could give you a free bid. Roy gets busy sometimes and I could help you, too, ya know.”

  Amanda was comfortable and happy with her contractor, Roy Greeley. He did good work on time, and he cleaned up his mess when he was done with a project. If he didn’t know how to do something he would always tell her, and he did his best to keep costs down.

  “Thanks, Solomon. I’ll keep you in mind,” she said, as she slid the well-worn business card into her purse. She was loyal to Roy, but if there was ever a disaster, it didn’t hurt to know a backup handyman.

  His pockets stuffed with at least four of Mrs. Bitterman’s cashew cookies, Solomon waved a friendly goodbye and headed out the door, squeezing between the displays of artificial Christmas trees. Mrs. Granger had already pronounced the fake trees as ‘an abomination” and Amanda secretly agreed.

  The moment Solomon was gone, Mrs. Granger felt free to give her opinion.

  “He’s a nice kid, but he really does need to learn how to dress, and after mending everyone else’s fence in town you’d think he’d be able to keep his up a little nicer. I hardly even see him anymore since Bertie left him.”

  Amanda curbed a smile at Mrs. Granger’s comments. To her, anyone
under seventy was a kid.

  “You know what he needs?” Mrs. Bitterman added, whipping yarn around her clacking needles. “He needs to meet someone. That’s what he needs.”

  “Someone who likes cleaning up sawdust and paint on his coveralls,” Mrs. Granger added, peering at her knitting as she tried to pick up a dropped stitch. “You know what I heard about Desmond Martin?”

  That immediately perked up Amanda’s ears. The only news she’d heard about the dead man was from what James had told her and what Lisa had written in the local paper.

  Mrs. Granger continued, seeming to have solved her yarn dilemma as she began to knit again. “I heard that Mrs. Mason actually kicked him out of the bakery once, right out onto the sidewalk. Rumor has it that she was yelling at him so hard her face was nearly purple. Guess he’d been in there saying he wanted a job and when Mrs. Mason came back with the application form he had his hands on Celia’s caboose! Both hands, right behind the counter!”

  Mrs. Bitterman looked suitably appalled. “The cheeky little so-and-so.”

  “Absolutely. He was grabbing her unmentionables and when Mrs. Mason came back into the bakery Celia was so upset she was actually crying. Can you imagine working and having some sicko come in and put his hands on you? Honestly, I don’t know what the world’s coming to these days,” she muttered darkly as she finished off her row of knitting with vigor, as if she was ready to use the needles as weapons on very bad men.

  Mrs. Bitterman made sure to stuff Amanda’s purse with cookies, just like she’d done with Solomon, and by the time Amanda was at the front counter to pay for the heavy-duty extension cords she’d come in to buy, she was already sure the poor cookies were crumbling at the bottom of her new handbag.

  Brian seemed to be in a very festive mood as he rang up her purchases, whistling to himself as he punched the keys on the register.

  “Did Mrs. Granger actually call my artificial trees abominations?”

  Amanda tried to keep from looking guilty. “I…um…you’d have to ask her.”

  Brian sighed and smiled a bit. “She does it every year. It’s like our holiday tradition. Honestly, I think I’d almost be disappointed if she didn’t complain about them.”

  As Amanda handed him the money she couldn’t help but admire a beautiful menorah that had been placed on the shelf behind the register. It was antiqued silver, with intricate carvings and white tapers in each of the eight holders.

  Following her gaze, Brian pointed at the menorah. “Stunning, isn’t it? It was my mother’s.”

  “So, that probably explains why I never see you working Saturdays.” Amanda commented and Brian nodded.

  “Yep, and it doesn’t hurt that I have a great assistant manager to cover for me. Sally really knows the business.”

  “Brian, I like Sally, but she forgets my frequent shopper discount sometimes. You need to do something about that.”

  “I’ll make sure she remembers next time, I promise. And Merry Christmas to you.”

  “And Happy Hanukah, my friend.”

  Chapter 13

  Amanda watched Solomon Culpepper’s battered pickup truck park in her circular drive, and suppressed a sigh of frustration. If she’d had her way, she’d have waited until Roy Greeley was back from his Christmas vacation and have him fix the two wooden shutters that had been banging upstairs, but with guests coming and going at all hours at the Inn she needed to be sure everything was in tip top shape. She certainly couldn’t have shutters swinging in the wind, disturbing her guests, even if they were located several rooms away from the noise.

  She opened the front door and mustered her best smile. “Thanks for coming, Solomon! I really do appreciate it.”

  His grin was huge, as if he’d won some jackpot. “Oh, I appreciate you calling me, Amanda. I know I’m not your normal fix-it guy, but I want you to know that I give a good job for a good wage.” He stepped in the large foyer and looked around appreciatively.

  “Wow! I haven’t been in this place for years, not since your uncle and aunt owned it. I thought it would be in much worse shape than this, after being abandoned for so long.”

  Amanda smiled. If there was a way to get in her good graces, it was for someone to compliment her Inn and to recognize the work she’d put into making sure that it was beautiful and loved once again. “It was in pretty rough shape when I got it, but Roy’s been able to fix anything I can’t.” She pointed to the curved staircase. “That’s our next project. It’s got some damaged areas I’m going to have him repair when he gets back.”

  Solomon nodded, his smile still in place. “Well, then I can understand why you like to work with him so much. He’s a good guy, all right. We go fishing together a couple of times a year, and his sister is friends with my –“ Solomon stopped mid-sentence, “—well, I know his sister.”

  Amanda instantly remembered that Mrs. Granger had told her that Solomon’s wife had left him a while ago. Flustered, she was just about to offer him some coffee when Solomon picked up his toolbox, apparently ready to start work. “Just point me to what you need fixed and I’ll get you back up and running again.”

  It didn’t take long for Amanda to realize that Solomon was true to his word. He did do a good job, finding the problem with the swinging shutters and figuring out how to fix them. She was a bit nervous when she saw how far he was leaning over the iron railing of the small balcony so he could screw a couple of slotted screws in place to secure everything. It took her a moment to realize that he’d used his belt to secure himself to the railing, but then she knew that even though it looked like dangerous acrobatics, he was being careful not to fall and get hurt.

  The main difference between Solomon and Roy was that Solomon was a talker. He gave her a running commentary on what he was doing, how he’d met her uncle at a clam bake the Rotary Club had sponsored, and how he wanted to trade in his truck for a newer model. He had questions about the newspaper article he’d read about the diamond necklace being returned, and told her that he was really happy Mrs. Welch had such good luck that her property had been found. Amanda actually enjoyed sitting on the guest room bed and chatting with him.

  After he’d moved to the second bedroom and set his tools down, Amanda was trying to think of topics of conversation. “So, how did it go with your job at Mrs. Sandford’s art gallery?”

  “Oh, when I fixed the back door? It went fine. She made me come back twice to do it over again but I’m kind of used to that with her, so I always charge her more.” Solomon gave Amanda a broad wink and she laughed.

  “Sounds fair.” She crossed her ankles and swung her legs a bit, relishing the chance to be off her feet. “Solomon, you don’t happen to know what sort of business Mrs. Sanford has with Mrs. Welch, do you?” At his startled glance she explained, “I just meant that I saw something of Mrs. Welch’s for sale in Mrs. Sanford’s gallery.”

  He straightened up, surprised. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I just work for the ladies, that’s all.”

  Instantly embarrassed for asking such a leading question, Amanda tried to backtrack. “I’m sorry, Solomon. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  The handyman pulled a couple of long screws from his toolbox. “I heard about how you two didn’t get along real well when you got to town.” He looked at her, waiting to see what she’d say.

  Amanda shrugged. “We’re just different people, that’s all. She’s probably the best-heeled lady in town and I think I kind of upset the status quo.” She tried to smile but it didn’t feel genuine at all.

  Solomon nodded. “If I were a single man, I could do worse than to have a rich lady like Hortense Sandford,” he teased. “I wouldn’t mind being a kept man.”

  The words were out of Amanda’s mouth before she could stop them. “Oh, I thought you were single.” Amanda winced, wanting to clap a hand over her mouth. When was she going to be mature enough to not say stupid things?

  “Well, technically married,” Solomon said as he readied his drill. “
Can’t afford to track down my ex and get a divorce just yet. Maybe someday.” He shrugged. “I know people talk about me and Bertie. There’s people in my family that are real mad about the whole thing and I got tired of them talking about me and stuff they didn’t know anything about. They didn’t know half the details of it, and they blew it up into some big scandal.”

  He straightened up and looked at Amanda. “Sometimes it isn’t drama that ends a marriage. Sometimes people just run out of steam.”

  “I guess so.” Amanda thought back to her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, Ken. They hadn’t just run out of stream; they’d gone off the rails.

  Solomon stuffed the screws in the front pocket of his overalls. “So, what’s new with Desmond Martin? I heard you were doing some investigating for the sheriff’s office or something. Spending lots of time talking to the cops, I guess.” His voice was serious but Amanda caught the humorous glint in his eye.

  “Nothing official.”

  “You just hang out with the local detective quite a bit, eh?” When Amanda opened her mouth to answer, Solomon kept talking. “Did you know he lived close to where I grew up? Desmond Martin, I mean. He always was a squirrelly guy. Used to fall head over heels for whatever girl would give him the time of day. I think he was engaged about three times when he was still in high school. He was mooning around after my niece for a while until I chased him away.”

  Amanda watched as he attached his belt to the railing again and leaned out to fix the shutter. Conversation over, she headed downstairs to do the prep work for tomorrow’s breakfast. She knew that Solomon had everything well in hand.

  Chapter 14

  “I think my new bookstore is haunted.”

  Amanda stopped petting Benny for a moment, stunned. The little dog shifted in her lap, waiting patiently for more attention. “Truman, why would you think that your place is haunted? Everyone loves your bookstore, and I haven’t heard a word about anyone thinking there was a ghost in there.”