Ravenwood Cove Cozy Mysteries Books 1-3

by Carolyn L. Dean

  Amanda opened the large box of freshly-baked pastries and took a deep, satisfying whiff. “I know the bakery usually doesn’t do deliveries, but I’ve been so crazy busy with guests that I forgot to get the cinnamon rolls at Cuppa for tomorrow’s breakfast. They were already closed by the time I called.” She looked up, startled, to see Celia looking back at her. A smile played around the baker’s lips.

  “It’s okay for you to talk about Cuppa. I know you’re friends with Meg, and we don’t actually compete that much with each other. We don’t serve coffee.”

  You may not compete with Cuppa, but their cinnamon rolls still beat yours, hands down, Amanda thought as she thanked Celia again for the pastries.

  She could hear a lot of laughing and running upstairs, with occasional thumps and raised voices. Celia glanced toward the curved staircase.

  “How many guests do you have here today? Sounds like a herd of elephants.”

  Amanda grinned. “Nope, just a pair of eight-year-old twins, an angsty thirteen-year-old girl, and a set of really tired parents. That’s the twins you’re hearing. I gave them some Nerf guns and let them have a shootout in the hallway.”

  Celia raised her eyebrows. “Do you usually let your guests do that?”

  “Not usually, but they’re the only guests I have right now, and there’s nothing breakable in the hallway. It seemed like a way to get some of that energy used up.” Amanda laughed. “I think the parents actually went to take a nap while their kids are having a shootout. Must be nice to be able to sleep through anything.”

  “I’m more of an insomniac myself.” Celia sat down on the nearby bar stool and leaned her elbows on the marble top of the kitchen island. “So, I heard you’re probably in the know about what’s going on with the Desmond Martin investigation. Can I ask you about it or will it make you uncomfortable?”

  “No, it’s okay,” Amanda said as she stashed the bakery box in the large pantry. “I just don’t know everything, that’s all. There seem to be more questions about him than answers.” She rummaged around in the fridge for a minute, pulling out a bowl of chilled fruit. Gathering up a cutting board and a sharp knife, she set them on the island and went to wash her hands at the sink.

  “Ask away,” she said, turning off the running water.

  “Well, they said he was shot. Do they have any leads about that?”

  Amanda dried her hands on a clean towel and stood across from Celia, reaching underneath the island to get a large pottery bowl. Tomorrow’s breakfast would include a fruit salad and some crispy bacon, and she had time to get the fruit cut up ahead of time.

  “Not that they’re telling me about,” she said as she expertly peeled one of the cold oranges. “Mrs. Mason told me you met Desmond Martin at the bakery one day.”

  Celia shuddered. “Yes, meeting him once was plenty for me. What a creep!”

  “I heard he was harassing you.” Amanda didn’t add that he’d been discovered pawing Celia’s backside before Mrs. Mason had thrown him out of the bakery in a fit of protective rage.

  “It was horrible. I’ve never had anyone…bother me like that. So humiliating!” Amanda could see the tears gathering in the corners of the younger woman’s eyes, and stopped what she was doing.

  “I’m sorry, Celia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Celia’s chin was quivering with emotion. “Thank goodness Mrs. Mason walked in on him right then. Who knows what else he would’ve tried, with his criminal past and all.”

  “I heard he asked Mrs. Mason for a job that day.”

  Celia set her hands on the smooth marble. “Yes, he did. He didn’t have any experience but she was still going to interview him. She’s got a soft spot for people who need a job and are willing to learn.”

  Amanda nodded in silent agreement. Celia cleared her throat and mustered a smile. “Mrs. Mason’s been almost like a mother to me, you know. I got really lucky that she hired me at all. My last job in Kansas was as a dishwasher, and she’s teaching me so much about business and the bakery.”

  Amanda dumped the chopped orange in the bowl. “Oh, I thought Mrs. Mason said you were from Oklahoma.”

  Celia laughed and shook her head. “She’s a sweetie, but she’s not much on geography. I think she thinks that any state in the middle of America is Oklahoma. I’m a fighting Jayhawk, born and bred. I only came out here because my mom passed away and I have family in Oregon, so I thought it would be a good place to make a new start.” She brightened up. “I’ve got my own apartment here, you know. It’s the first time I haven’t had to have a roommate or been with my Mom.”

  Peeling a papaya, Amanda smiled. “Sounds like a big step for you. Congratulations!” She thought back to the loss of her own mother and felt a pang of sympathy for the soft-spoken girl sitting across from her. “Must be tough to start in a new town. I did it here at Ravenwood Cove, too. Everyone’s lived here so long that I still feel like a newcomer, even though most people are really friendly.”

  Celia seemed to agree. “It’s not easy, making a new life, is it? I guess some people grow up and have a great life automatically, and some of us have to grab it with both hands and hang on.” She sighed and picked up her purse.

  “Some of us have to do whatever we can to make our own happiness.”

  Chapter 18

  The text was short and sweet.

  IF YOU’LL STAY WITH ME IN THE BOOKSTORE FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS PAST DARK TONIGHT MAYBE WE CAN SEE THE GHOST.

  There was a pause of less than a minute before Truman’s follow-up text arrived.

  I’LL BE THE ONE WITH THE HOLY WATER. :D THANKS

  Amanda wasn’t exactly thrilled. That’s what I get for telling him that the last two guests for the day had left and there weren’t any expected at the Inn until the next afternoon, she thought darkly as she packed a quilt in her car and glumly drove to Benny’s Bookstore.

  The antique streetlights were already flickering on in the small downtown of Ravenwood Cove, casting a soft, warm light on the wide sidewalks. Driving by the town square, she could see that whoever was in charge of putting the many strings of white fairy lights up in the trees and around shop awnings and doorways had done an amazing job. Rumor was that the Hortman brothers had been offered the contract by the town council, under the firm provision that they were only to work until noon every day, so there wouldn’t be any chance of them drinking and falling off a ladder while on the job. Whether that was true or not, Ravenwood Cove had never looked so festive. The town council had gone door to door, talking to all the shop owners and encouraging them to put their best decorating foot forward, and it had definitely made a difference.

  Truman and Benny were waiting when Amanda arrived. She parked at the curb and pulled the fluffy blanket out of the passenger side, all ready for curling up on one of Truman’s secondhand sofas and doing some reading. She knew he’d invited her so they could investigate the ghostly occurrences in the shop, but she was more interested in something hot to drink and a bit of reading time with a good book and her new friend.

  After a welcoming hug and some chit chat, Amanda settled on a sofa and Benny hopped up in her lap the moment she sat down. Truman flipped over the CLOSED sign and turned off the main lights. He switched on a small lamp on the table next to Amanda and settled into the overstuffed chair close by, pulling out a computer tablet. Peeking at his screen, Amanda watched him flip to a reading app and open up an e-book.

  “I’m telling your customers that you don’t read your own books,” she teased, watching Truman pop his head up in surprise. “You got something against paperbacks?”

  He grinned. “My reading tastes are kinda eclectic sometimes, and besides, it’s easier to pack a whole library in this thing than it would be to fit the books in my apartment. Now, what’s it going to take to buy your silence? Coffee?”

  Amanda shook her head. “Cocoa. I’m a woman of discriminating tastes,” she said, flipping a page in her book.

  Within minutes Truman had brought
her preferred bribe, a big mug of cocoa, and they both settled in to read, a companionable silence between them. Benny was content to snuggle on Amanda’s lap, finally falling to sleep and occasionally twitching as he dreamed whatever small dogs dream.

  The quiet bookstore and the dark room was relaxing, and Amanda had to catch herself from nodding off a couple of times. The warm dog and the calm atmosphere was making her sleepy. Glancing at Truman, she could see he was intent on whatever was on his screen, his eyes flying across the page.

  It had been almost an hour of near-silence when the first manifestation of the ghost occurred.

  Amanda could hear a slight shuffling, but because of the tall, full bookcases around her she couldn’t quite tell which direction it was coming from. Glancing at Truman, she saw him quickly shut his tablet, dousing its light. Amanda reached over and silently turned off the little desk lamp, her eyes wide as she tried to quickly adjust to the new dimness. The only light was coming in from the faint white lights out on the square, and it took her a moment to be able to see again.

  There was a long pause. Maybe it was ten minutes, maybe ten heartbeats; Amanda couldn’t tell, but at last she heard the faint shuffling again, sounding like it was coming from a space above and behind her. Fumbling for Truman’s hand, she was glad to grab on and grateful for the warm squeeze he gave her in return. They waited in silence, not moving, not breathing.

  There was the shuffling sound again, and a bit of creaking.

  Above them now, and coming closer toward them.

  Amanda felt Truman grip her hand more tightly, and suddenly a small chunk of something fell on Amanda’s hair.

  She squeaked in terror, jumping to her feet and frantically trying to brush the unseen thing off her head, picturing huge spiders and ghostly fingers. Truman quickly clicked on the desk lamp and leaped up, ready to help her. When Amanda looked down, she could see something small lying on the well-worn plank floor.

  Plaster. It was a bit of broken plaster that hadn’t been there before.

  Clutching Truman’s arm, she looked up and pointed at the ceiling. There was a small, fresh crack in the ancient plaster above them. The room was suddenly silent and Amanda turned to Truman, her eyes wide.

  “You don’t have ghosts. You have guests,” she mouthed quietly, and she could see the shock in his eyes. Whatever he’d expected, it didn’t seem to include the thought that people might be upstairs in his unused garret.

  “Should I call the emergency number?” he asked breathlessly, and she nodded.

  “Yes, you call ‘em. I think I’ve used up my quota with 911 this year.”

  Chapter 19

  Within minutes, two cars full of Ravenwood Cove’s entire police force had squealed to a stop in front of Benny’s Bookstore. Amanda met them outside and quickly explained the situation, and cautioned them that Truman was still inside, muttering angry oaths at his ceiling and carrying a full-sized baseball bat.

  The police were focused and thorough, but after an extensive search of the entire bookstore they found no evidence of anyone living there, except for Truman in the apartment next door. Checking the outside of the building, the only possible way in and out of the attic space was a tiny set of louvered vents at each end of the building, with metal screening over it. The vents were too small to let anyone crawl inside. The police officers were polite but seemed skeptical about someone being upstairs until Amanda pointed out the piece of plaster, freshly broken from the crack in the ceiling.

  George Ortiz, the police chief, instructed his crew to check over every bit of wall and ceiling they could, looking for any sort of opening that might be hidden. He told them to check for drafts coming through the decorative moulding around doors, places that looked more worn than something around them, or anything else that might seem unusual.

  Amanda watched the whole thing, wishing that James was in town so he could be part of the investigation. She knew it was a local matter that George and his team of officers could handle perfectly well, but she’d still feel more comfortable having James nearby to oversee the situation.

  It took almost half an hour, but a triumphant yelp from the back office quickly brought a rush of officers to see what had been discovered. Years ago, someone must’ve decided that a dropped ceiling would make the unheated office warmer, but when the rookie officer, Rollins, had taken a closer look at the seemingly-nailed on panels, he discovered that one was loose. A quick inspection revealed a square door in the ceiling that would almost certainly open into the attic space.

  George had a quick consultation with another officer and took Truman and Amanda aside, his face serious.

  “We’re going to ask whoever is up there to come out. It’s safest for everyone if we don’t have to go up and try to corner them.”

  Amanda gulped. “What if they don’t come out? I mean, what do you do?”

  “We tell them we’re sending in the dog.”

  “Benny?” Truman squeaked, putting his hand down to pet his little friend.

  “No, not Benny,” George answered, obviously trying to keep a straight face. “We tell them we have a K-9 unit with a German Shepherd and we’re sure they don’t want to get bitten. That usually does the trick.”

  Amanda was puzzled. “Does Ravenwood Cove have a K-9 unit? I don’t remember ever – “

  George interrupted her. “We don’t. Our town is too small to afford or need one, but whoever is upstairs might not know that, right?”

  Truman looked relieved. “I guess that makes sense.” He picked up Benny and patted him absently. “What do you want us to do?”

  “I’d appreciate it if you go outside and just wait. If anything happens we want to make sure that you’re out of the line of fire.”

  With that happy thought in mind, Amanda found herself outside on the sidewalk, standing next to Truman and Benny, waiting. The shop’s front door was left open but they couldn’t hear much. After a minute or so there was a lot of angry yelling and the loud sound of scuffling, punctuated by a high scream. Truman grabbed Amanda’s hand and pulled her a bit farther away as the mayhem inside continued, then suddenly stopped.

  Leaning over to peer inside, Amanda could just make out that there was someone lying face down on the floor, with a police officer kneeling on his back and methodically putting him in handcuffs. Two other officers stood by with their guns drawn, pointing them at the suspect, who seemed to have given up. He was lying quietly until the cop on his back moved to stand and pulled the suspect up with him. Speaking calmly to him as he advised the man of his rights, the officer marched him toward one of the nearby sofas and instructed him to sit down.

  Officer Rollins motioned for Amanda and Truman to come inside. “We’ve already cleared the upstairs. This is the only guy.”

  Just as she walked through the door, Amanda recognized the man’s face. She’d seen that face before.

  The face of the stranger with a metal detector, killing time in the local restaurants and coffeeshop, and snooping around Mrs. Welch’s house.

  Truman settled into a nearby chair, staring at the cowed man as if he were truly seeing a ghost. His voice was nearly a whisper. “Who are you and why are you in my bookstore?”

  The unshaven man looked up, regret in his eyes. “My name is Henry Crabbe. I’m a numismatist.”

  “A what?”

  “A numismatist. Someone who collects old and valuable coins. Look, I’m really sorry about staying in your attic. I’ll repair any damage I’ve done, I swear. Please don’t let them arrest me.”

  Two of the police officers trickled out, back to their normal patrols since the excitement at the bookstore had died down, but two remained, including George, listening to Henry Crabbe talk.

  “I’m sorry about sleeping upstairs. I just needed a safe and dry place to stay while I was here in town. I never meant to scare anyone.”

  Amanda sat next to Truman. “You didn’t answer his question. Why are you here?”

  The man turned his sorrowful
eyes toward Amanda, and she had the sudden impression she was looking at a sad beagle with droopy ears and a mournful face.

  “I just came to get what’s owed to me, that’s all. I never meant any harm. If he’d just given the money he owed me I wouldn’t have had to spend my last dime coming here and trying to find it on my own.” He looked at Truman. “By the way, you really should get an alarm system installed here. That back door in the alley was incredibly easy to jimmy open.”

  Amanda could see that Truman was trying to control his temper. “What are you talking about? Who owed you money?”

  Henry blinked at him. “Mr. Welch, of course. Took delivery of some of my best gold coins, saying it was for his collection, and then I found out the money order was no good. It was fake. When I tried to contact him I never heard a word back, even after sending certified letters. His phone number was disconnected. After almost a year I was out of money and at my wit’s end, so I decided to confront him in person.” He turned to the listening officers. “I wasn’t gonna hurt him, honest. I just wanted him to give back my coins and then I would’ve been on my way, but I didn’t know he had died, you see? I had no idea that he’d passed away, and when I saw his widow outside her house one day I talked to her about the whole thing.”

  Henry looked down and shifted his hands behind him. “Can someone loosen up these cuffs a bit? They’re really starting to dig into my wrists.”

  George Ortiz ignored him. “You talked to Mrs. Welch about the coins? What happened?”

  “She said she didn’t know a thing about it, and when I tried to talk about it she ran inside and locked the door. Well, I thought her behavior seemed very suspicious, so I kept an eye on the house, you see? Even if Mr. Welch was dead, he hadn’t taken my coins to whatever afterlife he wound up going to. I figured that maybe his wife would still have them around, maybe hidden. The problem was, I didn’t have a place to stay, and I needed to be in the area in case something turned up.” He looked down, visibly upset. “I guess he’d done this sort of thing before, bought coins and then passed bad checks to pay for them. I didn’t find out about it until it was too late. Now I’m sitting here in handcuffs and he’s dead and I go to jail. End of story.”