TABLE OF CONTENTS
MARSHMALLOW CREME KILLER
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
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
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
Marshmallow Creme Killer
Book Seven in the
INNcredibly Sweet Series
By
Summer Prescott
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
To be frank – things in the writing world have been a bit rough just lately. I was alerted to multiple instances of what seemed to be an unacceptable degree of emulation by other authors who seem to need help coming up with ideas and tried to use some of mine. But, through it all, I’ve been blessed to have the unwavering support of readers who know and love my books. I’ve received messages of support from many of you, and even a present or two, which makes it so much easier to carry on and do what I do. Writing is my joy and my life, and despite the fact that there are unscrupulous folks out there who are looking to capitalize on the stories and characters that I’ve created, the creativity still flows, and the words still present themselves in a way that readers find entertaining, so I am at peace.
Thank you dear readers – for your support and kind words. I’m so glad that my stories bring you pleasure, and allow you to escape, for just a little while. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…Cozy readers are the best. I dedicate this book to you, dear friends – I couldn’t do it without you!
Author’s note: I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on—reader feedback is very important to me. My contact information, along with some other helpful links, is listed below. If you’d like to be on my list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc.… just shoot me an email and let me know. Thanks for reading!
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MARSHMALLOW CRÈME
KILLER
Book 7 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series
PROLOGUE
Sir Wendell Shropshire, Earl of Halsbury, slouched beneath the rough folds of his hand-knit wool sweater, shivering a bit in the dank interior of the dimly-lit castle. The nearly abandoned mansion was falling into disrepair, and the Earl had long ceased trying to heat the imposing stone structure. With most of the staff discharged, the thirty-something sole heir to the estate kept to himself, his lanky form rarely moving from the grimy damask chair that he’d stationed directly in front of the fireplace.
His meals were brought to him by his one remaining servant, Kosta, who also turned down and heated his bed at night with an old-fashioned bed-warming pan. It was only a matter of time before he had to turn the loyal man out into the damp cold because he would no longer have sufficient funds with which to pay him. Wendell brooded in front of the fire, mulling over his miserable fate and what to do about it, while the rain dripped steadily and the wind rattled the window panes that were as old as the hill upon which they sat.
Wendell gazed at the stone hearth in front of him, its surface seeming to ripple in the flickering light of the flames, and knew what he had to do. Under the stone was a key – a key that opened a bank box in Monaco. Monaco, the delightful little playground where he planned to win back the fortune that he’d lost at the tables and through loose living. Yes, Monaco was to be his salvation…all he had to do was work the tables properly, and find a sap with more money than brains, and he’d be able to restore his estate to its former glory. He’d no longer be a disgrace, and he might even be able to buy back some of the heirlooms that he’d hocked in order to keep food on the ornate mahogany table.
CHAPTER 1
Melissa Gladstone-Beckett was excited to try her latest creation, a Marshmallow Crème cupcake that she’d invented when she couldn’t sleep the night before. The sleepy blonde suppressed a yawn as she lightly touched the tops of the cupcakes to see if they were cool enough to frost. The smooth, dark chocolate cakes sprung back lightly under her gloved hands, letting her know that it was time to top them off. The cupcakes were filled with a sweet, peanut-butter cream cheese, and topped with marshmallow fluff, a drizzle of peanut butter glaze, and a sprinkle of finely chopped peanuts. They were a bit salty, a bit sweet, and had just the right amount of crunch to complement the dark, moist cake.
Missy had just topped off the last cupcake, when her best friend, flame-haired, free-spirited, former Californian, Echo Willis popped in the back door, ready for their daily get-together over cupcakes and coffee.
“Hey darlin!” Missy grinned, greeting her friend with a hug, being careful not to touch her with marshmallow coated gloves.
“Oh my gosh, it smells amazing in here,” Echo observed, gazing hungrily at the cupcakes. “I’m going to go start the coffee.”
The two friends met for coffee and cupcakes in the morning during the week, often accompanied by Echo’s fiancé, Kel, a local, but internationally renowned artist. Kel had been born and raised in their little town of Calgon, Florida, and felt that it was his civic duty to keep relative newcomers, Echo and Missy, apprised of anything interesting that might be going on in town. He knew who was starting a business, or going out of business, who was marrying or divorcing whom, and lots of other juicy tidbits of town gossip. Kel had a face that one could trust and, quite by default, was often on the receiving end of personal information simply because he was a good listener.
Missy set a tray of cupcakes down on their favorite bistro table in the eating area, as Echo finished pouring their coffee and placed the carafe back on the warming burner.
“The vegan ones have the tiny carob chips on top,” Missy advised her health-conscious friend. “Is Kel joining us today?” she asked, noticing t
hat Echo had poured only two cups of coffee.
“Nope, he’s been working so hard lately that he decided to take a personal day, so he’s sleeping in, going out to breakfast, and probably working some beach time into his lazy schedule today,” she smiled fondly.
“Well, he’s more than earned it,” Missy remarked.
Kel had been traveling non-stop, as buyers from across the globe asked him to personally supervise installation of his art pieces in their homes, businesses and galleries.
“Yes, he has,” Echo nodded, sinking into her chair and reaching for a cupcake. “But I have some exciting news,” she grinned and took an enormous bite of her cupcake.
“Wow, slow down, sister,” Missy teased, loving her friend’s expression as the full flavor of the cupcake hit her.
“Oh myyyy…” Echo groaned, holding her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed. “This is amazing.” She savored the bite, then washed it down with a swig of coffee.
“Someone’s hungry this morning,” her friend teased, nibbling at her own treat. “So, what’s the exciting news? Did you two finally set a date for the wedding?” she asked hopefully.
Echo gave her a blank look for a moment. “Oh, no, that’s not it. I finally decided what I want to do with the bookstore.”
She had been given the bookstore that was located next to her candle shop downtown when the woman who owned it passed away, and left it to her in the will. Already nearly busier than she could handle with making and selling custom candles, Echo had been in quite a quandary as to what to do with the quaint and tidy little shop which shared a wall in the same historic building as her candle store.
“That’s wonderful! So, what’s going to be happening?”
“I talked with an architect about the structure of the building, and he said that it wouldn’t be difficult at all to put a huge archway into the wall that connects my store with the book store. I figure that if I can just hire one additional person, they can run the book store while I run the candle store, and I’ll still be close enough to supervise.”
“Oh, Echo, that’s a great idea,” Missy exclaimed. “Are you going to leave the bookstore just as it is?”
“Well, actually, I was hoping that maybe you could give Carla a call and the three of us could tackle the interior. I like the setup that’s there, but the entire place could stand to be freshened up a bit, particularly since there was a body found there just a few months ago,” she shuddered.
When Missy and her handsome and clever husband, Detective Chas Beckett had first moved to Calgon from Louisiana, Carla Mayhew had been Missy’s first friend. She and Missy had become somewhat close after Carla’s husband, the Chief of Police, was murdered, but when Echo moved to Calgon from California, the two women had not hit it off at all. Echo and Missy had been best friends in Louisiana and Carla was more than a bit jealous of the free-spirited redhead.
“I agree – that cute little shop needs a little TLC and a brand new start,” Missy agreed. “I’ll call Carla this afternoon and see when she’s available. I’m so glad that you two worked out your differences.”
“Me, too,” Echo smiled, remembering the catty remarks and snide looks that had passed, on multiple occasions, between her and Carla.
The two women spent the rest of their time together discussing possible colors of paint for the bookstore, as well as what flea market finds they might be able to use for quaint storage solutions. Echo headed out to work, and Missy was busy the rest of the morning with folks coming in to see what her “Cupcake of the Day” was. The new treats went quickly, and Missy wasn’t able to try calling Carla until after she closed her shop, Cupcakes in Paradise, which was right across the parking lot from The Beach House Bed and Breakfast, an inn that she and Chas had bought just before coming to Calgon.
The inn backed up to some of the prettiest beaches in Calgon, and the innkeeper, Maggie, a silver-haired, no-nonsense professional whom they’d inherited when they bought the place, stayed busy with a steady stream of guests, on a regular basis. Right now, everyone who had checked in for the day was settled in, so Missy made her way wearily to the Owner’s Quarters, through a secured doorway in the main foyer.
Feeling tired, but content, Missy wanted nothing more than to take her precious, furry babies, Toffee, a sweet-natured golden retriever, and Bitsy, a spunky, white maltipoo, out for a romp on the beach, followed by putting her feet up and resting with a good book until it was time to start dinner. The “girls” were wriggling with excitement when they met her at the door, and the thought occurred to her that, no matter what kind of day she’d had, seeing these two, with their doggy grins greeting her when she arrived, always made her smile.
The sun on her face, the wind in her hair, the sand between her toes, and the pure, unadulterated joy of the dogs frolicking in the surf was a balm to Missy’s weary soul, as she inhaled the fresh sea air, reflecting upon how wonderful it was to be alive in that moment. She headed back to the inn with a contented smile on her face, and her mind whirring with ideas for dinner.
CHAPTER 2
Missy was astonished to see Chas’s nondescript beige police sedan parked at the side of the inn when she returned from her walk on the beach with Toffee and Bitsy. The dashing detective usually didn’t come home from work quite so early, and Missy found herself hoping that he wasn’t ill. She took care of food and water for her girls, hung their leashes on the peg by the door, and headed upstairs to look for Chas. She was more than a bit surprised to see a suitcase open on the bed, and her husband carefully, but quickly, folding garments and placing them inside.
“Sugar? What’s going on?” Missy asked, alarmed.
Chas would’ve told her if he’d made travel plans for work, and, even if he forgot to mention it, the detective never left for a trip at this hour – he was a morning traveler.
When her handsome, dark-haired husband stood slowly and turned to her, his face appeared tired and drawn, with dark circles beginning to show beneath his eyes.
“Sweetheart, what is it?” Missy rushed to her beloved husband, who buried his face in her hair and just held her for a moment, his breathing ragged.
When she pulled back to place her hand on her husband’s cheek, his eyes were slightly moist and he swallowed hard, taking a breath before trying to speak. Missy’s heart pounded, her eyes searching the familiar planes of his perfectly chiseled features.
At last he exhaled. “It’s Chalmers. I have to go home, he’s quite ill,” Chas said in a rush.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” Missy’s eyes filled with tears at her husband’s pain. “Do you want me to go with you?”
He shook his head briefly. “Let me go first. I’ll see how…bad…the situation is. If necessary, I’ll have you join me. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.” The muscles in his jaw flexed as he fought for control of his emotions.
Chalmers had been Chas’s father’s manservant since before he was born, and the detective viewed the dignified gent as a very dear member of his family. When Chas’s father had passed a couple of years ago, Chalmers had been charged with maintaining the family estate and considerable fortune. He had turned the Beckett family mansion and antique and rare car collection into a museum. He still resided at the estate, along with Chas’s brother Reginald, keeping an eye on the notorious playboy.
It had been the hope of both Chalmers and the Beckett patriarch that Chas would take over operations of the many Beckett enterprises when his father became ill, but the detective had maintained a low profile for his entire adult life, and preferred to serve his fellow man in law enforcement, rather than by ruling an extensive commercial empire. His brother, Reginald, did not have the correct temperament or attitude to take over the family businesses, so the responsibility had fallen to dear, dependable Chalmers, who had been loyally at his employer’s side since they were both quite young, and he’d done an admirable job of keeping the Beckett legacy alive and well.
Chas had received a call earlier in the af
ternoon from a member of the estate staff, letting him know that Chalmers was ill, and had instantly decided that there was no choice but to go see him. Not only did he have a deep love and respect for the older man, but he needed to check the status of the estate and its holdings in the horrendous event that something…permanent might happen to the manservant. He wished that he could take his precious wife with him, but knew that she was needed here. In the best-case scenario, Chalmers would fully recover, and the detective would be able to return home quickly, but the staff member who had called him had sounded terribly grave and worried on the phone.
“Is Spencer taking you to the airport?” Missy asked, wanting to do something to help, but feeling entirely helpless.
Spencer Bengal was the young Marine veteran who served as handyman, chauffeur and server at the inn, and who lived in a basement apartment below the main building. He basically did whatever needed to be done for Missy, Chas, and the innkeeper, Maggie, but sometimes disappeared rather mysteriously for short stretches of time.
“No, I texted him earlier and tried to call, but I didn’t get an answer. I asked one of the guys from the department to give me a ride,” Chas replied, snapping the locks on his suitcase shut.
“Do you know how long you’ll be gone?” Missy asked, missing him already.
“No, sweetie, I don’t, but I’ll keep in constant contact, don’t worry,” he replied, running the back of his hand down her cheek before bending down to kiss her softly.
She held on tightly to her beloved husband, wanting to remember every detail of being in his arms while she could.
“Be careful, sugar,” she whispered, trying to ignore the nagging premonition of doom that was uncurling in the pit of her stomach.
“Always,” he promised, and then he was gone.
CHAPTER 3
Marshmallow Creme Killer: Book 7 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series Page 1