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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015 by Maven Publishing & Summer Prescott Books - All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
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 1
Marilyn Hayes, owner of SubLime Sweets, Key West’s most successful pie shop and bakery, brushed a stray lock of espresso-brown hair from her eyes as she frowned down at her new marketing plan, trying to make heads or tails of it. Her brilliant and beautiful daughter, Tiara, who had graduated with honors and was working in her shop while sending out resumes to find her dream job, had formulated the plan, and try as she might, Marilyn couldn’t get a firm grasp on the intricacies of it.
Tossing the sheaf of paper onto her desk, she sighed, and unconsciously swiveled her chair side to side, worrying about her only child. Tiara’s somewhat estranged father, Daniel, had come to Key West a few months earlier, for what he told her was a vacation with a buddy from work. What the trip had actually turned out to be was an attempt, by Daniel’s travel buddy, to blackmail a local charter fishing captain out of his business. The buddy had ended up being thrown into the ocean after having his throat cut, the captain had been arrested for the crime, and Daniel had disappeared. It was a habit of her ex-husband’s to disappear any time that things got rough, but Marilyn knew that Tiara was worried that the vengeance-seeking captain may have killed her father. The more time that passed with no word from him, the more worried her daughter became, though she tried her best not to show it.
Tiara hadn’t been herself lately, the somewhat incoherent structure of the new business plan was evidence of that. Marilyn’s overachieving daughter always had all of her ducks in a row, and when it came to business, would settle for nothing less than perfection. As if conjured by her mother’s thoughts, she appeared in the doorway of the office, looking beautifully frazzled, her long, golden hair tossed casually up into a messy bun, carrying a large crate filled with mangos.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, somewhat breathless from carrying the heavy crate. “When our limes were delivered this morning, Carlos asked me if we wanted some mangos because one of his clients canceled a big order of them and he needed to get them out of the warehouse.” She set the crate down next to Marilyn’s chair, and picked up one of the large fruits. “Check it out,” she said, tossing her mother a deliciously ripe fruit.
“Wow, these are perfect,” Marilyn nodded, appraising the mango. “How much did this set us back?” she asked, cringing at the thought of additional expenses.
Tiara rolled her eyes. “Well, first, even if I had paid full price, we can afford it – we’ve had several peak months in a row – and secondly…Carlos gave them to me for free,” she said smugly, crossing her arms in a triumphant gesture.
“Wow, you must be quite the negotiator,” Marilyn raised her eyebrows, impressed. “How on earth did you manage to get free produce? And how much do we have?” she asked.
“We have seven crates of them, and I actually didn’t have to do any negotiating. The mangos were on the truck to deliver to the client that was scheduled first thing this morning, and when they refused them, he couldn’t take them back to the warehouse, so he gave them to us,” Tiara explained. “He said that, since the client refused them and they were perishable, he’d be able to write them off as a loss. We do owe him a dozen Key Lime pies for his family reunion next weekend though,” she grinned, pleased with herself.
“Looks like Kelcie and I will be busy thinking of creative ways to use up seven crates of mangos,” Marilyn commented, referring to her indispensable kitchen assistant. “But, what a wonderful challenge to have. Free ingredients are always a good thing,” she nodded, already creating recipes in her mind.
“That’s what I thought too,” Tiara agreed.
“Hey, sweetie,” Marilyn changed the subject. “I’ve been trying to go through the business plan, and I’m just not making any headway with it,” she confessed, her eyes gazing at her daughter with compassion.
“I’m sure,” was the murmured response. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know it’s definitely not my best work, not even close,” she shook her head. “I’ve just been sort of…distracted lately.”
“Worried about your Dad?”
Tiara nodded, irritated by the tears that welled in her eyes. “I mean, it’s not like I heard from him regularly before…but to go all this time without a single phone call or email or card or something…I just hope that he’s okay, you know?” she looked at her mother plaintively.
“Of course, honey,” Marilyn said, rising to embrace her daughter. “I’ll talk to Detective Cortland and see if he has any way of looking into where your dad might be these days,” she promised.
The young woman wiped her tears, embarrassed at her display of emotion. Her father hadn’t been actively involved in her life for quite some time, and yet, here she was, blubbering because she hadn’t heard from him. Trying to shatter the painful intensity of the moment, she made a lame joke. “You just want an excuse to talk to the hot detective,” she teased, her voice still shaky with emotion.
Knowing Tiara’s tactics for avoiding emotionally charged situations, Marilyn took pity on her and went along with the distraction technique. “Yes, that’s exactly what I need in my life right now, a man who spends his waking hours in the company of dangerous people,” she rolled her eyes, the comical gesture making her daughter giggle. “Now let’s get these mangos back to the kitchen so that I can start creating mango masterpieces,” she ordered playfully.
Chapter 2
“I’ve never seen so many mangos in my life,” Marilyn’s assistant, the lovely, mocha-skinned Kelcie said, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
“Indeed,” her boss nodded. “And we need to skin and slice them all today because they’re at the perfect stage of ripeness. It may be a late night, but I’ll pay you overtime,” she offered graciously, not looking forward to the task ahead. “I have some ideas about what we can make with them, and I think it’s actually going to be fun,” Marilyn smiled optimistically, donning an apron. She’d had Kelcie come in a couple of hours early this morning so that they could get a head start on the “Mango Project.”
When the two of them had made their way through three of the crates, Marilyn switched gears and
decided to start creating and baking while Kelcie continued to skin and slice the luscious fruit. She pureed a huge batch of the soft, juicy slices, added some sugar and a tiny bit of mint, pouring the mixture into molds that she had bought yesterday, after Tiara had surprised her with news of their unplanned bounty. Placing the molds carefully into the freezer, she was excited about being able to offer mango frozen treats to hot and hungry customers. She planned to drizzle the mango pops with raspberry sauce before serving them, and had a feeling that the cold delights would go over well with tourists and locals alike.
“Mom, you’re not going to believe who was in my Yoga on the Beach class this morning!” Tiara came bursting into the kitchen, through the back door, hair frazzled and face flushed with exertion. She taught the yoga class three days a week, and always had a good turnout for her sessions.
Marilyn closed the door to the walk-in freezer with a smile, thankful to see her melancholy daughter excited about something. “Probably not…do tell,” she prompted, rubbing her hands together to warm them.
“Jace Chesterton,” she breathed, almost reverently.
“Oh my,” her mother commented, less than enthusiastically. Jace Chesterton, an internationally famous food blogger, who was a few years older than Tiara, had arrived in Key West a couple of weeks ago, taking the serene island community by storm. His exploits at local bars, clubs and restaurants had been whispered about by the residents, and, on more than a couple of occasions, featured in the local paper. “He doesn’t exactly strike me as the yoga “type,” she commented, making a face.
“Oh, but he totally is,” her typically pragmatic and down-to-earth daughter was starry-eyed. “He’s so spiritual and wise,” her gaze was faraway. “I talked to him afterward, and he said that my class moved him and touched his soul,” she grinned dreamily.
Oh, brother. “Well…that’s quite a compliment,” Marilyn struggled to sound supportive, without wanting to encourage the burgeoning hero-worship.
“Right?” her daughter nodded, wide-eyed. “I mean, he’s been all over the world and has practiced yoga in actual ashrams, so that’s really saying something.”
“Well, I’m proud of you, honey, you do a great job,” her mother replied, hoping that Tiara wouldn’t pick up on her somewhat negative attitude toward the internet star who was followed by a cameraman everywhere he went. His video blog, or “vlog” as his disciples called it, had gone viral a few years ago, when he graduated from college and did a year of “food journeying” through Europe. Now, he had advertisers and sponsors, and literally made his living traveling the world and eating.
“I wonder if he’ll be back tomorrow,” Tiara murmured, heading up front to open the shop. She would man the front counter while Marilyn and Kelcie prepared tons of mango treats, along with their signature Key Lime dishes.
“Hmmm…if Jace Chesterton is going to be there, I may have to go to yoga tomorrow,” Kelcie mused.
“Oh no, don’t tell me that you’re a fan too?” Marilyn asked, shaking her head.
“Well, you have to admit, he’s really cute,” her assistant smiled shyly, still skinning and slicing mangos.
“Is he?” her boss asked in disbelief. “His hair is longer than mine, he can’t seem to grow facial hair, aside from the patches on his chin and above his lip, his clothing looks like it’s practically in tatters, and he always has a weird little smirk on his face,” she observed, wondering what on earth the entire world saw in the free-spirited hipster.
“Yeah,” Kelcie agreed with a giggle. “Totally hot.”
Chapter 3
Marilyn didn’t care if she ever saw another mango in her life. She and Kelcie made sure that every piece of fruit had been skinned and sliced, and once all of the crates were emptied, they came up with mango creations of every stripe. They baked mango cakes and cupcakes, they made chocolate-covered mango slices, filled jars with mango chutney, and pureed and froze vast quantities of the fruit for future use. They had finally finished up just after midnight, and both dragged themselves home with visions of mangos dancing in their weary heads. Kelcie had been relieved when Marilyn told her that she didn’t have to come in early in the morning for baking, since they’d created enough stock that they wouldn’t have to do extra prep for a few days.
Because Marilyn was alone in the shop, sipping coffee in her office well before it was time to open, she was able to make good on her promise to Tiara and called the handsome detective, Bernard Cortland.
Glad that he couldn’t see her shiver just a little bit at the sound of his deep, rich voice, she told him that Tiara was upset about not hearing from her dad, and asked if there was anything that he could do.
“Well, technically, since he was in the company of a murder victim, and had been trying to pull together a deal with the murderer, it could be valuable to try to obtain a statement from him,” the detective rationalized for her benefit. “I can make some calls and get back to you,” he offered.
Marilyn sighed with relief. “That would be wonderful, thank you so much,” she said, prepared to hang up after a conversation that in her opinion was all too brief.
“My pleasure,” he replied. “I was thinking…” Bernard said slowly, surprising her as she was about to hit the End button.
“Yes?” she scrambled to put the phone back up to her ear.
“Maybe we could talk about what I find out…over dinner tonight? If you’re not busy,” he asked, sounding almost shy.
“No. I mean…I’m not. Busy that is,” she stammered. “I’d love to.”
“Great, how about El Siboney at seven?”
“Perfect! I love Cuban food, and their sangria is delicious,” Marilyn agreed eagerly, pleased that he’d chosen a quaint little out-of-the-way place that was far enough off of the beaten path that they’d have some peace and quiet.
“I agree. I’ll see you then,” he hung up, leaving her sitting in her executive chair with a silly smile on her face that just wouldn’t go away. She didn’t have long to ponder the fact that she’d just agreed to go out on a date with Bernard, however, because Tiara and Kelcie came charging in through the back door, talking excitedly, their voices reaching Marilyn’s office before they did.
“Oh my gosh, Mom, you’re not going to believe this,” Tiara exclaimed, flushed with not only the exertion of teaching her yoga class, but quite obviously from excitement as well.
“Try me,” she grinned, happy to see her daughter and assistant smiling from ear to ear.
“Jace Chesterton was at yoga again, I stood right beside him,” Kelcie chimed, practically jumping up and down.
“And that’s not the best part,” Tiara continued. “He talked to us after class, and when he found out that we worked at SubLime Sweets, not only did he say that he’d heard of us, but he also offered to do a review for us on his vlog. Isn’t that amazing?” she gushed.
Marilyn made a face. “I’m not so sure about that, honey…” she began, only to be cut off by protests from the girls.
“Seriously, Mom? This guy can make or break a business, and we could use the free advertising. You’re going to be expanding, and this could give us the final boost that we need to launch the expansion,” her daughter insisted.
“It’s true, Ms. Hayes,” Kelcie chimed in. “One good word from him and you’ll have more business than we can handle,” she promised, wide-eyed.
Marilyn sighed, unconvinced. “Look, I know he’s a celebrity, and that you girls think very highly of him, but did you ever stop to think what would happen if he gave us a bad review? I might as well just close the doors according to you two,” she raised her eyebrows and looked at each of them in turn. “We’re not “cool, chic and cutting edge.” We’re a cute, cozy pie shop that caters to locals and tourists who have a sweet tooth and appreciate a good cup of coffee,” she shrugged.
“Don’t do that, Mom. Don’t sell yourself or SubLime Sweets short like that. Everyone loves us – we even had an episode of a reality show filmed here,”
Tiara reminded her mother.
“Yes, we did, and if you recall, it didn’t turn out all that well because one of the little socialite princesses that they brought in here didn’t like Key Lime pie,” she shot back, folding her arms over her chest.
“And we still had a huge increase in traffic after it aired,” her daughter smiled smugly. “He’s coming in later today to check things out. Just talk to him, Mom. He can give us publicity that we couldn’t even begin to afford to buy,” she pleaded.
“And it’s been my experience that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is,” Marilyn grimaced. “I’ll talk to him, but I’m not promising anything,” she warned.
Kelcie and Tiara exchanged an excited, knowing glance, and slipped out of the room, chattering quietly.
Chapter 4
The mango items had been well received, and customers who had come in to buy a Key Lime pie, often elected to take home some of the mango creations as well. A family with four young children visited the shop twice, once on their way to the beach and again on the way back, for the frozen mango pops, and by noon the supply of cakes, cupcakes and other sweets that Marilyn and Kelcie had worked so hard on, were nearly sold out. Once they’d recovered from the morning rush, Tiara worked on promotional flyers at the computer behind the front counter, while Marilyn and Kelcie knocked out some of the baking for the next day.
Marilyn had just finished putting a tray of Key Lime tarts in the walk-in refrigerator, when her daughter came rushing into the kitchen, eyes sparkling.
“He’s here!” she stage-whispered, grinning, and leaving no doubt as to who “he” was.
Death, Limes and Videotape: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 7 Page 1