Murder So Sweet: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery (Frosted Love Mysteries Book 3)

by Carol Durand

  Missy had used insurance money to have her graceful Victorian home repainted in the same buttery yellow color, covering up the ugly red letters that had been spray painted on the side, and fortunately, Chanel’s terrifying comment about Toffee being in danger had just been an empty threat. Missy had never been so glad to return home to see that precious furry face waiting for her, unharmed and happy. Following the highly publicized arrests of Chanel Thibedeaux, Sheriff Calvin Goins, Deputy Thibedeaux, and more than a handful of members of the Lausanne Parish Sheriff’s Department, calls from grateful business owners began flooding Chas Beckett’s office and Missy’s home and businesses. More than one lavish bouquet of flowers waited on her doorstep in the days following the convictions, and the Parish business owners breathed a collective sigh of relief as they were now able to carry on their business without fear of retribution by the “Cajun Mafia.”

  Clara Clements was keeping the ice cream store running, but had put it up for sale shortly after Elmer’s death. She had been present at the trials of his killer, and felt vindicated when the verdicts and sentencing were announced, but the emptiness of life without her beloved husband was something with which she still dealt. She had confided in Missy that the reason she was selling the ice cream shop was that she couldn’t even enter the building without missing Elmer terribly. Everything she saw, everything she touched, even the heavenly scent of the waffle cones baking, reminded her of him, and the terrible manner in which he had died. She was planning to sell the shop and move to Florida, where her daughter and her grandchildren lived, to get away from the painful memories and focus on the good ones. Missy would be sad to see her go, but completely understood, and hoped that someone as equally wonderful would buy and take care of her ice cream shop. In the meantime, she walked across the street every day to check on the elderly woman and bring her the cupcake of the day, enjoying her company.

  Chas Beckett stopped by every day as well, under the guise of trying the cupcake of the day with his cup of coffee, but Ben and Cheryl knew the real reason, nudging each other and smiling at the way their boss’s face lit up as soon as the handsome detective walked in the door.

  Epilogue

  Missy lounged on her front porch swing with a glass of mint tea, Toffee at her feet, reading a novel, warm breezes stirring gently. She lowered her book as a car pulled up in her drive, delighted to see Chas Beckett in the driver’s seat. Toffee, hearing a car approach, stood up, alert, and upon discovering who was coming to visit, bounded off the porch with glee to greet him with sloppy kisses and a gaily waving plume of a tail. Missy stood as Chas came up the steps, Toffee trailing happily behind. She gave him a hug and patted the swing beside her, offering him a seat.

  “Dinner plans?” he asked.

  “Hmmm…I suppose I could be convinced to give up my frozen entrée,” she teased.

  Chas shook his head, grinning. “How is it that someone who prepares food for a living eats fake food that comes in little plastic trays? I think I can come up with a better alternative.”

  “I’m sure you can,” she agreed. “Do I have time to change?”

  “You look beautiful as you are,” he replied, making her blush, “but, yes, you have time to change if you’d like to slip into something for dinner.”

  He was wearing a light summer suit, with a spotless white shirt and purple paisley tie, so Missy knew they would be going somewhere with actual linens and fine china, and wanted to dress accordingly. Leaving Chas on the porch swing, with Toffee for company, she went inside to find the perfect outfit. She selected a light, lemon-colored sundress with matching sandals, and accessorized with simple diamond stud earrings and a tear-drop shaped diamond pendant. Leaving her hair down and brushing it until it shone, she put the slightest amount of eyeliner and mascara on and dabbed on a bit of lip gloss, ready to head out the door. Spritzing on a soft mist of her most favorite delicate fragrance, she went downstairs, her stomach growling with hunger and her heart delighted to spend time in the company of a man who was not only devastatingly handsome, but charming and sweet as well.

  “You look amazing,” Chas said softly, taking her hand and kissing it.

  Missy blushed again and thanked him, commenting that he didn’t look so bad himself. He opened her door for her and she climbed in, ready for what promised to be a lovely evening.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, not really caring, just glad to be in his company.

  “A special little place I know,” he replied mysteriously. “I think you’ll like it.”

  They traveled in companionable silence for about thirty minutes, heading in a direction that Missy had never explored before, and she was excited that they were going to try someplace new. Chas pulled up in front of a small but elegant restaurant that was located, as far as she could tell, in the middle of nowhere. The sign out front was in French, and her excitement grew when they stepped in the door into a beautiful, low-lit traditionally French interior that smelled absolutely delicious.

  “How did you find this place?” Missy wondered after they were seated in a plush velvet booth that was dressed out in linen, china and silver. The only lighting was provided by candles, and the booth offered near-total privacy.

  “Ironically, the owner, Pierre, was one of the state’s witnesses at Chanel’s trial. He called to thank me personally, and let me know that if I ever needed a favor, he was there for me,” he confessed.

  “So, what’s the favor?” she asked.

  “Well, I know that you can’t tell it by looking around, but this restaurant is frequented by celebrities and the very wealthy. The waiting list, if one can even get on it, is booked often booked for an entire year in advance.”

  “And you were able to get this amazing table? That’s fantastic!” Missy exclaimed.

  “I called in a favor, because I wanted to make tonight very special,” he explained. Just as Missy was about to ask what was so special about tonight, the waiter came over with a magnum of champagne and a tray of appetizers that looked and smelled decadently delicious.

  The waiter poured the champagne, then slipped subtly away to give the couple privacy. Chas raised his glass to give a toast, and Missy did the same.

  “To new beginnings,” he said, clinking his glass against hers. They both took a sip, gazing into each other’s eyes.

  “New beginnings?” she asked.

  “New beginnings,” he nodded, taking a deep breath and reaching for her hand. “Missy’s Muffins and More rising from the ashes, a new shop in a new location, a budding romance for Ben…and a new start for me.”

  Missy’s heart pounded at his words. What if his promotion would be taking him to another location? What if he decided that Lausanne Parish was a terrible place to live after all of the things that had happened? What if he left and she never saw him again? Her voice was tremulous. “A new start? What do you mean?” she asked quietly, halfway dreading his answer.

  “When we met, I told you that I had everything that I needed in my life. A simple house, transportation, my job, and a killer wardrobe.” They both smiled at that. “But I was wrong. I didn’t know it at the time, but there had been something missing in my life, and I only realized it recently.” He rubbed the palm of her hand with his thumb as he spoke, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “What was missing?” Missy asked, holding her breath for a moment in anticipation of his answer.

  “When I figured out that Chanel Thibedeaux was the murderer, I had a gut feeling that the reason you weren’t answering your cell phone was because you had gone out to confront her. I didn’t act until I had evidence, but you have this stubborn way of following your instincts that I absolutely admire. I just hate the fact that it puts you in harm’s way at times,” he admitted. “The thought of you sitting in the lair of a murderer scared the hell out of me. When I drove out to the Crawshack, I had no idea whether you were alive or dead, and I realized that I cared more about making sure that you were okay than I did about putting Chanel behin
d bars. For the first time in my adult life, a human being and my feelings for her were more important than my job. When I charged into Thibedeaux’ office that day, it had nothing to do with justice, and everything to do with the fact that I finally realized that I have feelings for you. Feelings like none I’ve ever experienced before.” Chas Beckett, self-proclaimed perpetual bachelor and hard-bitten detective, brought her hand to his lips, keeping his eyes locked on hers while kissing it.

  Happy tears sprung to Missy’s eyes. “Oh Chas, thank goodness. I was so scared that you were going to say you were moving away or something, and I didn’t even want to think about what my life would be like if you weren’t around,” she exclaimed, being more vulnerable and open with him than she had ever been with any man in her life. “But, I thought that you didn’t want to even think about having a relationship with anyone…”

  “If you recall,” he reminded her, “you weren’t too keen on relationships either.” She nodded, butterflies fluttering in her midsection. “So why don’t we both agree that we’ve changed our minds, and let this happen,” he suggested softly.

  “I’d like that,” she nodded, spellbound. The couple slowly rose from their seats, leaning across the table from one another and shared the softest and sweetest of kisses. Whatever would be, would be, and they were both looking forward to it.

  The summer sped by quickly, with Missy and Chas’ relationship growing stronger and sweeter every day. Ben and Cheryl were happily dating, and enjoying each other’s company daily behind the cupcake counter. Clara Clements sold her ice cream store, and Missy was eager to meet the new owner, a woman about her age that had recently moved to town from California.

  Cora Nesbitt stepped into the Dellville shop early one morning, with a basket full of ripe peaches, seeming a bit sad when she greeted Missy.

  “Good morning Mrs. Nesbitt! How are you?” Missy asked, delighted to see the elderly woman.

  “Well, things have been better honey,” she admitted.

  “Oh no, what’s wrong,” genuine concern colored Missy’s tone.

  “Come sit a spell, and I’ll tell you about it,” Mrs. Nesbitt said, looking around to make certain that no one was listening. She and Missy talked for quite some time over coffee and coconut-lime cupcakes. At the end of the elderly woman’s tale, Missy sat back, digesting what she had just heard.

  “You know, Mrs. Nesbitt, I believe I can help,” she said, taking out her cell phone and dialing Chas Beckett’s number.

  “Hey beautiful,” he answered cheerfully, “what can I do for you?”

  “Oh honey, you’re not going to believe this one.”

  A letter from the Author

  To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me what you think by leaving a review!

  I’ll be releasing another installment in 2 weeks so to stay in the loop (and to get free books and other fancy stuff) Join my Book club.

  Stay Curious,

  Carol Durand