A Deadly Engagement (Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Book 9)
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A Deadly Engagement
A Margot Durand Cozy Mystery
Danielle Collins
Fairfield Publishing
Copyright © 2018 Fairfield Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
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
Thank You!
1
The scent of baking pastries filled the The Parisian Pâtisserie as Margot prepared for the day in the early morning hours. It promised to be a busy day, several additional delivery orders filling her calendar, but she didn't mind. She was finally settling back into a routine. Back to the bakery.
Since it was Friday, she had the kitchen to herself. It was the one change she’d made recently. She’d given herself Mondays off, entrusting her shop to the capable hands of Dexter and Julia, but Friday mornings were hers. Dexter was scheduled to come in later that day, but for now, she was taking care of the morning baking and prepping the dough for some of the delivery orders scheduled to go out later. Since when had they gotten so busy?
Classical music filled the air, sounding almost as sweet as the pastries smelled, and she let out a contented sigh. It was mornings like this that made her think back to the days when she had just started her little shop. At that time, she hadn’t known if it would stay open past the end of the month.
Julian, her late husband, had encouraged her. He said that no matter what happened, he was proud of her. The memory tugged at her heart, but she didn't let it bring her mood down. Julian was gone, but she wanted his memory to only bring her happiness, not sorrow. She had spent too long missing him, and now she was going to spend time remembering him with happiness.
A light knock sounded on the back door and her smile broadened. “Adam,” she breathed, as she went to let him in.
He swept her up in tight hug, then placed a solid kiss on her lips. “How are you doing, my fiancée?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Remember? You’re not allowed to call me that…yet.”
“Oh, and remind me why?” He looked down at her, the corners of his lips tugging up in a smile.
“I don’t know…some foolish person thinks we should wait on announcing our engagement.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He nodded as if just remembering. “That foolish person doesn’t want his partner to feel bad.”
Margot shook her head. “I still don’t think Les would mind if we announced our engagement. He and Bonnie would understand.”
Adam shrugged, kissed her on the cheek, then made a beeline for the coffee. “You’re probably right, but their engagement party is in three weeks, and then I think we can share the news.”
Margot sighed, shaking her head. She loved the man now perusing her freshly baked pastries, but sometimes, he didn’t make the most sense. Despite her attempts to convince him that it would be perfectly fine to tell their close friends and family that they were engaged, he remained adamant that he didn’t want to encroach on his friend’s excitement over his engagement.
“You’re not getting any of those,” she said, lightly tapping his knuckles with a clean wooden spoon. “But you can have one the Oppsies over there.”
“I really shouldn’t,” he said, his grin spreading. But they both knew he would. “When I marry you, Margot Durand, I will likely have to ban you from baking.”
She laughed. “No, you’ll just have to run more.” This time, she poked him lightly in the stomach.
“Oomph. True.” He laughed, stepping out of her reach, and pulled out his phone. “Speaking of running…”
“A case?”
“No.” He tapped the screen and looked up at her, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “My brother’s been asking me quite a few questions.”
“You think he’s going to ask you to come up to D.C.?”
“I hope not. We’ve got dinner tonight.” He winked.
“True.” Her buzzer rang and she shrugged. “Duty calls.”
“Same here.” He kissed her on the cheek and headed for the back door. “See you tonight.”
She watched him go, her smile tugging the corners of her lips tight.
“Glad you’re here, Dexter,” Margot said, rushing through the kitchen to her office.
“Am I late?” Dexter Ross stood tall and lanky with a boyish grin on his face as he watched Margot scurry around.
“Just on time, but I’ve got to run. Bentley called in a fuss. Needs me to come up right away.”
Dexter’s grin faltered. “Is everything all right?”
“I think so.” She huffed out a breath, her coat in one hand and her bag in the other. “I’m just worried. He wasn’t making a lot of sense. He said something about a wife.”
“His wife died, right?”
“Yes. Well, as far as I know. I mean, Bentley is pretty tight-lipped about his past unless it involves a case he tried in his lawyering days. I’ll go check on him now. Hold down the fort for me?”
He winked and mock saluted. “You got it, boss. Let me know if you—or Bentley—need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks, Dexter.”
She rushed out of the kitchen, the icy blast of cold, February air hitting her in full force. She should have put on her jacket before she left the bakery. She rushed around the side of the building and to her car parked at the curb. After tossing in her purse, she pulled on her coat and scrambled around to the driver’s side. The engine roared to life and she pulled the gearshift into drive, not waiting for it to warm up.
Bentley was like a father to Margot and his incoherent ramblings worried her more than she liked to admit. Usually, Bentley was as sharp as a tack. The only health issues he’d faced recently were dealing with his back, but he’d all but fully recovered from that. Was it possible his mind was going?
She pushed her guesses away, knowing better than to borrow trouble. Instead, she focused on maneuvering through the light traffic of North Bank, Virginia, thankful once again for the mostly-sleepy town. Though they’d had their bouts of excitement, it was nothing like life in the big city.
The minute she pulled into a parking space at the senior living complex, she was out the door and hastily making her way to Bentley’s apartment on the second floor, her footsteps echoing against the brick façade. She knocked on the door and waited, biting her lip with impatience.
“You came quick,” Bentley said, stepping back to allow her entrance.
“Bentley,” She turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her, confusion in his milky blue eyes. “Wrong?”
“On the phone today…you sounded distracted, confused. Is everything all right? Do I need to call your doctor?”
He waved dismissively, shaking his head. “That’s what I get for calling you after waking up from a nap and getting unsettling news.”
Part of Margot’s worry began to subside, but was quickly taken over by concern. “What do you mean ‘unsettling news’?”
“Come and have a seat,” he said, walking into the living room. He took his usual chair in front
of the television and she picked her normal seat at the edge of his small couch. He pushed a letter on the table toward her and nodded at it. “Go ahead.”
Margot picked up the piece of paper and read the name. “Who is Lucy?”
“She’s my ex-wife.”
Margot blinked. “Ex-wife? But didn’t your wife…die?”
Bentley roughed a hand over his face. “It’s a little complicated, but the year before I met my late wife, I was married to Lucy. It was short, and we’ll just say it didn’t end well. I haven’t heard from her in all of these years until today. Go ahead. Read it.”
Margot went on to read—or at least attempt to read—the woman’s chicken scratch handwriting. It looked as if she hadn’t been in her right mind when she’d written it. As Margot read on, the contents seemed to agree with her summation. It was almost incoherent, except for one repeating phrase. There was something she’d never told Bentley.
“What do you think it is that she never told you? And why send this to you now?”
Bentley steepled his fingers, elbows resting on the edge of his chair. “I’m not sure, but I’d like you to find out.”
“Me?”
“Don’t be coy,” he said with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve solved greater mysteries than what my ex-wife might be hiding from me.”
While Margot had stumbled across several cases in the past, she shied away from anyone making her into anything more than what she was: a baker who happened to be observant and in the right—or sometimes wrong—place at the wrong time. Then again, she would always help her friends if she could.
“I’m not sure what I can do, but you can count on me to at least look into it.”
“Thanks, Margot. I knew I could count on you.”
She gleaned as much information as she could from Bentley and then said good-bye. She would have to rush to make it home in time to change for her dinner with Adam.
As she sped down the stairs, she reached into her purse for her keys and nearly missed the step at the end of the staircase. Strong hands reached out to catch her as she stumbled forward.
“Easy there,” the deep voice said.
When she looked up, there was something in the man’s pale blue eyes that made her do a double-take. Did she know him? Her gaze flicked down to the nametag on his shirt. She recognized it as one of the groundskeeper’s uniforms for the complex.
“Felix?”
“Felix Lynch, at your service, ma’am.” He had a bit of a drawl and his winsome smile held a certain confidence.
“I don't remember seeing you around here before.”
“I’m new,” he said, dipping his head as if he was a cowboy tipping his hat.
She fought the urge to ask him a round of questions, but instead turned off her investigator’s tendency and smiled at him instead. “Welcome to the area.”
“Pleasure to be here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to head out. Shift’s over and all.”
She noticed his hands seemed exceptionally clean, and that it wasn’t yet five o’clock. Then again, not all shifts were eight to five, but four-fifteen seemed like an odd time to be getting off work.
Stop trying to see a mystery everywhere you look, Margot! She berated herself and flashed another smile.
“Have a good afternoon.”
“You too, ma’am.” He walked past her and climbed into a dark blue sedan. Before he backed up, he nodded to her again, another gesture reminiscent of the Old West, then drove away. Her gaze searched for the license plate, but Felix rounded the corner too quickly for her to get a clear view.
Strange. Then again, perhaps it was Bentley’s request that she look into his ex-wife’s letter that had her seeing curiosities at every corner. Better to keep her digging to actual mysteries, not potential ones.
2
Margot was just about to pull on a pair of thick tights to go under the sleek black dress she’d chosen to wear to dinner that night when her phone buzzed on the vanity’s glass top. Seeing Adam’s contact information, she pressed answer and put the phone to her ear.
“I am so sorry.”
Margot dropped the tights. “You have to go to D.C., don’t you?”
“I do. Anthony just called me. It seems that they need someone with my…expertise.”
Margot’s curiosity piqued every time Adam said things hinting at his past life before he’d become head detective for the North Bank P.D. They had often gone round and round about what he could and couldn’t tell her, but she’d finally managed to come to terms with the fact that there were some things Adam couldn't tell her. Or…at least, she’d thought she’d come to terms with that fact.
“And that would be?”
“Margot.” His tone gently warned her not to press.
“All right. But you owe me a fabulous seafood dinner when all of this is over.”
“You name the place and I will be there.” She heard the smile in his words.
“Be safe.”
“I always am.”
He hung up and she let her hand slip to her lap. It was at moments like this that she was tempted to fret. To overanalyze what he’d said and do some digging into what was going on up in D.C. It was moments like this that made her think back to her late husband Julian and how he’d always tried his best to be safe…but how that hadn’t been enough.
She lifted her hand and dialed her best friend’s number.
Tamera answered on the second ring. “Hey, Marg, what’s up?”
“In the mood for some Italian?”
Tamera’s soft laugh was response enough. “Let me fix George something to eat then met you at Pane Dolce in…twenty minutes?”
“Perfect.”
Tossing the dress and the dreaded tights onto her bed, Margot opted for a pair of skinny jeans and a thick, cable knit sweater. Pulling on dark brown leather boots, she checked her makeup in the mirror before slipping into her pea coat. Stepping outside, she locked the door and made her way to the car. She’d be early, but she didn’t mind. A few minutes of peace amidst the dinner rush at her favorite Italian restaurant would be good for her.
“Ciao, bella,” Antonio said, coming toward Margot with open arms the minute she stepped into the dimly lit restaurant, which smelled of garlic and red sauce. “It has been too long, no?”
“Ciao, Antonio,” she said, accepting his kiss on both of her cheeks. “It has been too long. How is Carmela?”
“Bene! Good! And you and that detective? I keep hearing of your adventures.” He eyed her as if to make sure she was doing all right.
“We are good,” she said with a timid smile.
“Then you must be hungry,” he said with a knowing nod. “Come.”
She followed him through the maze of tables, the bright clink of glasses and scraping of silverware against plates of happy diners the perfect backdrop to the evening. Antonio brought her to her favorite table with a stunning view of the city that snaked all the way down to the Potomac River and the lights that sparkled off it.
“You eat alone tonight?” he asked with concern.
“No. Tamera is coming too. I just got here a bit early.”
“Wonderful! I will have fresh bread and water brought out immediately. And, as always, if you need anything, just ask. Antonio will get it for you.” He swept away with a wink, stopping at various tables as he made his way back to the front of the restaurant.
Ever since helping to clear his nephew’s name while exonerating her own niece from a murder charge, she had been on Antonio’s special guest list. She’d known the man for much longer than that, having been a patron of his restaurant for as long as she could remember, but they were tied now by bonds deeper than mere patronage.
Margot turned her gaze toward the amazing view. Though it was dark out, the lights created a spectacular picture anyway, glistening and sparkling off the water. It made her wish Adam were there with her. He would tell her some little-known historical fact about the town that he’d read in
some book, and then he’d tell her a joke to make her laugh.
She was excited to be his bride, to enter into marriage once again—though she’d never expected to find love a second time after Julian. And yet here she was, unable to say anything to her friends or her family. Friends like Tamera, who would drop what they were doing to come to dinner with her. It felt a little like she was deceiving them.
Sighing, she leaned back in her seat as a waitress came up to the table. “Here are two waters and some fresh bread for you. Can I get you anything else to drink?”
“Not yet. My friend…” Margot paused as she spotted Tamera over the girl’s shoulder. “There she is now.”
The waitress waited as Tamera made her way through the crowd and slipped into the seat across from Margot.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Water’s fine, thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.” The girl smiled then slipped away to the next table.
“This place is busy! I could barely find a parking spot.”
“Thanks for coming,” Margot said, fingering the napkin-encased cutlery next to her bread plate. “Adam was called away to D.C. and I just didn’t feel like cooking.”
“I’m glad you called,” Tamera said, picking up her menu. “We were having leftovers anyway and George had some documentary he wanted me to see. You’ve saved me from an evening of the ‘Truth Behind Beehives’ or something like that.”
Margot laughed, thinking of how much she missed her friend. They hadn’t seen each other much in the last few months, with the busyness of Margot’s traveling and then the holidays.
“I'm glad you came.”
Tamera put her menu down and met Margot’s gaze. “Is everything all right? With you and Adam?”