by Leena Clover
Copyright © Leena Clover, Author 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Muffins and Mobsters – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Series Book 6
By Leena Clover
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
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Books by Leena Clover
Strawberries and Strangers – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 1
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CSW34GB/
Cupcakes and Celebrities – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 2
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Berries and Birthdays – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 3
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07D7GG8KV
Sprinkles and Skeletons – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 4
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DW91NKG
Waffles and Weekends – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 5
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FRJ1FC1/
Gone with the Wings – Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 1
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071WHNM6K
A Pocket Full of Pie - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 2
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072Q7B47P/
For a Few Dumplings More - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 3
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072V3T2BV
Back to the Fajitas - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 4
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0748KPTLM
Christmas with the Franks – Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 5
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B077GXR4WS/
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Chapter 1
Jenny King sat out on her patio, sipping a glass of white wine. The fine mist coming off a gurgling water fountain sprayed her occasionally. The scent of wild roses and gardenias perfumed the air. The sky blazed in hues of orange and red as the sun went down over the ocean. A tea light flickered inside a hurricane lamp, teased by the brisk ocean breeze.
Jenny’s aunt Star sat next to her, doodling something on her sketch pad.
“Can you see anything in this light?” Jenny asked her aunt.
“Enough,” her aunt replied without looking up.
She was engrossed in her drawing. Star was a local artist who was famous for painting seascapes of the coastal Virginia region she called home. She had lived on the small barrier island of Pelican Cove for over forty five years. The seaside town was home to her. And now it was home to her niece Jenny.
Jenny had been married to a big city lawyer for twenty years. She had been a poster child for the rich suburban housewife who lunched with friends and threw parties to further her husband’s career - until her husband introduced her to a younger model of herself. Dumped and discarded at the age of forty four, Jenny had been at a crossroads. She grabbed her aunt’s invitation like a lifeline and arrived in Pelican Cove. She had worked hard to build a new life for herself there.
Suddenly, Jenny swore under her breath and brandished a fly swatter in the air. She smacked a spot on the table with gusto.
“This little thing is useless,” Star told her. “We should get the electric one. These mosquitoes are getting a bit too bold.”
“I never thought Pelican Cove would have so many mosquitoes.”
“We are at risk alright, being so close to the marshes,” Star noted. “But we manage to keep these little buggers under control.”
“How?”
“The town is supposed to take care of these things,” Star explained. “Looks like someone dropped the ball on pest control this year.”
“Look at me, talking about the mosquito population.”
Jenny shook her head in wonder. Sometimes, she didn’t recognize herself.
“What’s wrong with that?” Star queried. “You know these bugs carry deadly diseases. They need to be handled.”
“Let’s go inside,” Jenny said, getting up. “You can show me what you’ve been working on.”
Star hugged her sketch book and covered it with her arms.
“It’s a surprise. You can’t see it yet.”
“Just a peek?”
“No way, kiddo. Why don’t you go up to bed and call that young man of yours?”
Jenny’s face fell.
“I guess I can try.”
Jenny had been dating Adam Hopkins, the local sheriff, for the past few months. Earlier in the spring, Adam had asked her to move in with him. At the time, Jenny was just getting settled in at Seaview, her newly renovated sea facing mansion. She had turned Adam down.
Her response had cooled things between the couple. They had gone on a couple of dates since then but Adam didn’t drop in for dinner like he used to. Neither did he turn up for their late evening walks on the beach.
“You are both too headstrong,” Star frowned. “One of you will have to take a step back.”
“I’m not leaving Seaview any time soon,” Jenny said. “It’s my home now.”
“You need to move past this cold war. I almost preferred to see you two fighting like cats and dogs.”
“He just doesn’t care anymore, I guess.”
“Have some faith, Jenny. That boy loves you. You just need to spend more time together.”
Star paused mid-step as they walked into the house.
“I know. You need a new crime to solve together. Nothing major – maybe something silly like a stolen bike or two?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Jenny said haughtily as she climbed up the winding staircase to her room.
Jenny overslept the next morning. It was fifteen minutes past five when she pulled up in front of the Boardwalk Café. The building was dark. Jenny wondered why Petunia, the owner, had not opened the café. Usually, Petunia almost always arrived before her. Jenny was used to starting her day with a fresh cup of coffee and a warm hug from Petunia.
Jenny hurried through her routine, starting the oven. She mixed the batter for her blueberry muffins and added a generous amount of fresh blueberries. Her secret ingredient went in, the one that had people guessing.
Jenny had started working at the Boardwalk Café over a year ago at her aunt’s insistence. The rest was history. Jenny’s innate love for cooking had her creating tasty food every day, using the region’s abundant seafood and fresh produce. People up and down the coast flocked to the café to sample her yummy treats.
Jenny pulled out the first pan of muffins and opened the café doors just as the clock chimed six. Captain Charlie, her favorite customer, came in. He was always the first one in when Jenny opened at 6 AM.
“Good morning,” he greeted her, peering into the kitchen. “Do I smell muffin
s?”
“You do,” Jenny said with a smile. “Blueberry muffins, your favorite.”
“I like everything you cook,” Captain Charlie said with a blush. He patted his slight paunch. “I have been overdoing the sweets ever since you got here.”
Jenny placed two muffins in a brown paper bag and filled a large cup with coffee. She set them on the counter and glanced at the wall clock again. It was fifteen minutes past the hour. Jenny saw a few people come in and wondered when she would get a chance to call Petunia.
Captain Charlie must have read her mind.
“Where’s Petunia?” he asked as he picked up his food. “She hasn’t taken a day off in the past twenty five years.”
Jenny felt a shudder run through her for a fraction of a second. She dismissed her apprehensions with a smile and a shrug.
“She’ll be here soon, Captain Charlie. I’ll tell her you were asking for her.”
Jenny didn’t get a chance to look at the clock again for the next hour or two. She baked a few more batches of muffins, brewed pot after pot of coffee and poached chicken for salad. She sighed with relief when her friend Heather walked into the café.
“Can you handle the register for me?” she asked. “I need to sit down for a minute.”
Heather Morse ran the Bayview Inn with her grandmother. Her eyes clouded with concern as she watched Jenny take a deep breath.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” she asked with concern. “Why don’t you grab a bite in the kitchen? I got this covered.”
Jenny collapsed into a chair and broke a muffin into two. She popped half of it in her mouth and swallowed it without chewing. The clock chimed eight and Jenny remembered the call she needed to make. She dialed Petunia’s number and tapped her foot impatiently as the phone rang several times before switching to voicemail.
Jenny walked out on the café’s deck and stood with her hands on her hips, gazing at the Atlantic Ocean. The boardwalk stretched before her on both sides. The beach was almost deserted. She spotted a few tourists walking up from a parking lot, lugging camp chairs and coolers. They were clearly setting up for a day on the beach.
Jenny stepped closer to the edge and gave the beach another once over. A few benches were scattered across the boardwalk at regular intervals. She spotted a familiar orange scarf fluttering in the wind and shielded her eyes to get a better look. A lone figure sat on a bench, staring at the sea.
“What’s she doing there?” she mumbled to herself.
Jenny climbed down the café’s steps and strode across the boardwalk to the bench.
“Petunia!” she called out, raising her voice as she got closer.
The figure seated on the bench didn’t budge.
“What are you doing out here?” Jenny asked, breaking into a run.
She was beginning to feel a bit worried.
“Aren’t you cold, Petunia?”
Jenny King didn’t remember what happened next. She must have screamed her head off because the few people on the beach started running toward her. Jenny’s hands covered her mouth as her eyes popped open in horror. She made herself walk closer to the figure wearing the scarf. She wanted to be sure it was her friend.
Minutes passed, or hours. Sirens sounded in the distance. Jenny’s body sagged as a pair of strong arms came around her and wrapped her in a tight embrace.
“Shhhh …” Adam Hopkins murmured in her ear. “Settle down, Jenny. It’s going to be okay.”
Nothing was ever going to be okay again. Jenny knew that for sure. Someone had shot her friend in cold blood. Petunia Clark, owner of the Boardwalk Café, beloved resident of Pelican Cove, was dead.
Jenny wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. She barely heard Adam talking to someone. Her aunt was with her next, hugging her close.
“Let’s go back to the café,” her aunt soothed. “Walk with me, sweetie.”
Heather and Star hovered around Jenny back at the café. Heather’s grandmother Betty Sue arrived, followed by their friend Molly. The motley crew of women called themselves the Magnolias and were staunch friends. Petunia had been the quiet one, rarely speaking up but providing strong support by her mere presence.
Tears were streaming down their faces as the Magnolias sobbed unashamedly, clinging to each other.
Star had procured a bottle of brandy from somewhere. She poured two fingers in a glass and made Jenny gulp it down.
Adam Hopkins stepped into the café, followed by two deputies. He stood ramrod straight with his hands behind his back and cleared his throat.
“Jenny, you need to come with me.”
“Why?” Star asked, blowing her nose in a tissue.
“I need to question her about what happened.”
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Betty Sue Morse thundered. “Can’t you see she’s suffering?”
“I am sorry,” Adam said. “Just doing my job.”
Jenny stood up, wiping her tears on her sleeve.
“It’s okay, girls.” She looked up at Adam. “Let’s go.”
Adam pointed to an empty table.
“Actually, we can talk here or out on the deck, as long as we have some privacy.”
Jenny shut the café doors and nodded to her aunt. The Magnolias went into the kitchen.
“Walk me through everything you did this morning,” Adam ordered. “Don’t leave anything out.”
Jenny stared at the man who had become an important part of her life. Was she really in love with him?
She leaned forward and glared at him.
“So tell me, Adam. Are you being a jerk as usual, or are you just doing your job?”
Chapter 2
The Magnolias sat on the deck of the Boardwalk Café. The usually lively group was quiet. Jenny warmed her hands with a cup of coffee and stared at the ocean. Betty Sue’s knitting needles clacked and her hands moved in a familiar rhythm as she gawked at a spot on the table. Star drew furiously in her sketch pad. Heather sat with her eyes closed and Molly held a book upside down. They were down one member and every one of them felt Petunia’s absence.
“She was the kindest person I knew,” Star said suddenly. “I still remember the day she took over the café.”
“What did she do before that?” Jenny asked.
Star shrugged. “She came here one summer like any other tourist. I guess she fell in love with the town.”
“She wasn’t an islander,” Betty Sue nodded. “The Boardwalk Café had been shut up for a year since the previous owner died. The next thing we know, Petunia has bought the place and is serving coffee.”
“Did she have any friends other than us?” Molly asked.
“Not that I know of,” Star said. “I have never seen her talking to anyone else.”
“She spent most of her life here in the café,” Betty Sue told them. “There wasn’t a single day in the past twenty five years when she didn’t open the café.”
“Even for Christmas and Thanksgiving?” Jenny asked, astounded. “Didn’t she celebrate it with someone?”
Star and Betty Sue shook their heads.
“She kept it open for people who had nowhere else to go.”
“I miss her,” Jenny said fiercely. “She gave me a chance, helped me turn my life around.”
“What happens to the café now?” Heather asked.
“I’ll keep running it until someone says otherwise,” Jenny said. “That’s the least I can do.”
Jenny struggled to her feet, trying to fight off her melancholy.
“I need to start making lunch.”
“I’ll come and help you,” her aunt offered.
“I have to get back to the library,” Molly said grimly. “But call me if you need anything, Jenny.”
The group dispersed and headed to their daily jobs.
Jenny chopped celery and walnuts for chicken salad. She smashed the poached chicken with a fork and started mixing the salad together as her eyes filled up. It had been Petunia’s job to mix the salad. They had worked
well in tandem. Jenny chopped vegetables. Petunia mixed the salad and scooped it on the bread. Jenny would add lettuce and tomato, press the sandwich together and set it on a platter.
Jenny’s eyes filled up as she stuck a toothpick in the sandwich.
“You need to hold yourself together,” Star said, tearing up herself.
“I don’t want to,” Jenny cried. “I just want her back.”
“Sweetie,” Star said, hugging her niece. “You know that’s not possible.”
“What are the police doing?” Jenny demanded. “Sitting on their behinds as usual?”
“Have you talked to Adam about this?”
“Not since that horrible day.”
Jenny pulled off her apron and slammed her knife on the counter.
“I’m going to talk to him. They should have something for us by now.”
“It’s barely been two days,” Star reminded her.
Jenny stalked out without a word. She walked briskly down the boardwalk to the police station.
“Where’s your sheriff?” she hollered at the desk clerk. “I need an update on a case.”
Nora, the clerk, pointed toward a closed door.
Jenny kicked the door with one foot and let it slam behind her. Adam Hopkins sat with one leg propped up on a chair. He was a war veteran who had been injured in the line of duty. His mercurial temper flared every time his leg bothered him.
Jenny and Adam both swore at the same time.
“What’s wrong with you, Jenny?” Adam glared.
“You have to ask?” Jenny glowered back at him with her hands on her hips. “When are you going to get off your keister?”
“Mind what you say, Jenny,” Adam warned. “What are you blabbering about?”
“I want an update on Petunia’s case,” Jenny said, flopping down in a chair.
“We are working on it,” Adam said coolly.
“That’s not good enough. I want details.”
“I don’t owe you any explanation, Madam.” Adam’s voice had dropped to a menacing whisper.
“Have you caught the killer yet? Have you identified any suspects? What are you doing to solve this, Adam?”
“I am following procedure. That’s all you need to know.”