Eggnog Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 23 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)

by Summer Prescott

  The girl’s parents divorced when they were in college. Their dad became a bit of a playboy, dating women who were barely older than his daughters, and their mom was a professor who preferred the company of her books and computer to that of her daughters. Amber graduated with a degree in social work, generating an income that barely allowed her to scrape by, while Ashlie was in her final year as a marketing student, and had a job that paid six figures waiting for her when she graduated. Jeffrey was a chemical engineer who poured his all into his work.

  Missy couldn’t determine how or when Jeffrey and Amber met, but guessed that it was after high school, because they weren’t in any yearbook photos together. With a sigh of disgust at the time she had wasted, for no significant results, Missy closed out her browser and headed back up front to relieve Echo.

  “Find anything?” her friend asked.

  “Nothing usable. It was frustrating.”

  “Well, maybe Kel will be able to come up with something. In the meantime, do you think that maybe we should go searching tonight, after dinner?”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Missy nodded. “Try to see the world through the eyes of a disenchanted bride and figure out where she’d go. Let’s do that.”

  “I’m in,” Echo agreed. “What are you doing for dinner?”

  “Well, Chas will most likely be working on the case, so I can do whatever I feel like.”

  “We should just go out then, and get started early,” Echo suggested.

  “I love that idea. We can get some girl time in and work on the mystery. Chinese food?”

  “How about Thai instead?”

  “You got it,” Missy agreed with a smile. “I can pick you up at the gallery after closing.”

  “Perfect,” Echo grinned. The thought of going home to her empty half-renovated cottage was less than appealing, particularly if her slimy neighbor was on the prowl.

  Chapter 8

  “Oh my goodness, I’m stuffed,” Missy groaned, when she and Echo left Thara Thai. She had devoured a plate of Pad See Eiw, and actually felt more like taking a nap rather than searching for her missing guest, but she hated feeling helpless and waiting for the police to do all of the work, so the two friends set out to search for Amber Mitchell.

  “If I were a newly married young woman trying to escape her control freak husband, where would I go?” Echo mused as Missy drove along the winding beach road.

  “I would think that she’d want to keep a low profile. Where would someone go to keep a low profile?”

  “You said that she’s kind of a bookworm, right? Let’s try the library, then hit the coffee shops,” Echo suggested.

  “Good call,” Missy agreed, turning at the next cross street to head for the library.

  **

  “She looks familiar,” the elderly librarian nodded, when Missy showed her a picture of Amber that she’d pulled from the Internet. “But then again, she has one of those faces that you kind of see everywhere, so I can’t really be sure.”

  “Do you have security cameras?” Echo asked.

  “Oh, no. We don’t have the kind of activity that would require them,” she chuckled. “There’s nothing to steal other than books, and I’m guessing that most criminals aren’t breaking in to find a good read.”

  “I see your point,” Missy smiled. “Well, thanks for your time. Here’s my phone number, if you see this girl, please give me a call.”

  “I sure will,” the sweet old woman stuck the piece of paper in her pocket. “You gals have a good evening.”

  “Strike one,” Echo said when they returned to the car.

  “Oh, I don’t know…if we talk to a whole bunch of folks, there’ll be more people keeping an eye out for Amber,” Missy replied optimistically.

  “I guess that’s true, as long as we don’t accidentally tip off her kidnapper that we’re out looking for her. That could be dangerous for us.”

  “I really don’t think that we pose much of a threat to someone who’s evil enough to kidnap another human being.”

  “Unless of course we find him,” Echo gave her friend a pointed look.

  “Right,” Missy bit her lip. “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, we’ve got to give it a try…for Amber’s sake.”

  “To the coffee shops we go,” she replied, buckling her seat belt.

  The friends didn’t run into anyone else who thought that they may have seen Amber, despite having visited literally every coffee shop within a twenty mile radius.

  “Let’s leave the bookstores until tomorrow,” Missy suggested with a yawn. “I’m beat.”

  “Me too,” Echo agreed. “Just drop me off at home, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Sounds good,” she yawned again.

  Missy pulled up in Echo’s driveway and saw her neighbor, Steve, sitting out on his side porch, smoking a cigarette.

  “Does he live out there?” she whispered.

  “Sometimes I think he just camps out, waiting for me to come home so that he can make an excuse to come over and bother me,” Echo grumbled.

  “Want me to walk you to the door?”

  “Nah, he’s gross, but harmless. I can deal with it,” she sighed. “See you tomorrow.”

  Missy watched her friend close the front door behind her, and kept an eye on the rearview mirror as she drove away, watching for Steve. Something about him just gave her the creeps, and she worried about her friend. Arriving home, she went immediately to bed and dropped off to sleep, not even waking when Chas came home hours later.

  Chapter 9

  “It looks as though I may be taking a trip to Indiana,” Kel grumbled when Missy asked him what he had found out about Jeffrey Mitchell. “I found nothing of consequence. Mr. All-American seems to be squeaky clean.”

  “I don’t buy that,” Missy shook her head.

  “Nope, no way,” Echo agreed. “When are you leaving? I’ll need to rearrange your gallery schedule.”

  “I suppose I’ll go home and pack after this, then head to the airport and find whatever flight that I can. I don’t want to travel next week – Christmas week travel is a nightmare.”

  “Okay. I’ll take care of things at the gallery until you get back, just let me know when that’ll be once you have a better idea,” Echo instructed.

  “You’ll still be able to make it to our Christmas Eve gathering, won’t you?” Missy asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, dear lady,” the artist grinned, pleased to be included in the friends-and-family-only event.

  Ashlie came in the front door of the cupcake shop just then, wearing cut-off denim shorts and a tank top over her swimsuit, looking as though she was heading to the beach.

  “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said softly, seeming intimidated by the three people staring at her.

  “Not at all,” Missy smiled. “What can I do for you, honey?”

  “Well, this probably isn’t a good thing, but I always get a really bad sweet tooth when I’m stressed out, and I’m really worried about my sister, so this cupcake shop just drew me in,” she shrugged. “I’m hoping that you have something really gooey and chocolatey.”

  “I have just the thing,” Missy replied, rising and going behind the counter. “Salted Caramel Dark Fudge cupcakes with cream cheese filling…how does that sound?”

  “Perfect. I’ll take three. Two for me and one for poor Jeffrey,” Ashlie said sadly.

  “You eat cupcakes in front of him?” Echo asked without thinking. Fortunately, Ashlie wasn’t offended in the slightest.

  “Of course,” she was puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Did Amber eat cupcakes in front of him, I wonder?” Kel asked.

  “Probably not,” Ashlie shook her head. “She didn’t usually have dessert or sweets or anything like that.”

  “No sweet tooth?” Missy asked.

  “Oh, well, she liked those things, she just chose not to eat them once she graduated,” the young woman shrugged, ac
cepting her bag of cupcakes. “How much do I owe you?”

  “It’s on the house, sweetie,” Missy replied. “You enjoy those cupcakes and let me know if you need more.”

  “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you so much,” Ashlie smiled, then turned and left. “Have a nice day,” she said to Echo and Kel on her way out the door.

  The three were silent for a moment, just staring at the closed door as Ashlie made her way back to the Inn.

  “I’m hoping that she’s not next,” Kel mused. “Suddenly, my need to get to Indiana just became much more urgent.”

  “Yeah, it would be tragic if both sisters disappeared,” Missy nodded grimly.

  Chapter 10

  Missy went to the side of the Inn and knocked on Spencer’s door.

  “Hey, Mrs. B,” he answered, with Moose tucked safely under one arm. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

  Missy motioned for him to hand the cat over, and he immediately snuggled up under her chin as she hugged him. “Yes, everything is fine…sort of. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” The Marine opened the door to let her pass.

  His apartment was sparsely furnished and immaculate, with not one item out of place. There wasn’t a speck of dust or scrap of paper anywhere to be seen.

  “Wow, Spence, you really need to clean up this mess,” Missy teased, looking around, impressed.

  “The military gave me a profound respect for order, ma’am,” he shrugged with a smile.

  “Clearly,” she nodded with approval, then her look turned serious and she sat down on the couch with Moose. “I need a favor…”

  “Of course, anything. What do you need?”

  “I don’t want to seem judgmental, but I really don’t like Jeffrey Mitchell.”

  “I think that’s a healthy and valid opinion, Mrs. B,” the Marine nodded. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him.”

  “I appreciate that, but what I’d really like you to do is keep an eye on Ashlie. I don’t like to think that she’d be in danger, but if Jeffrey had anything to do with his wife’s disappearance, she very well could be.”

  “I agree. Not a problem – I can offer to show her around and get her away from him. He seems to be wherever she is most of the time,” Spencer observed darkly.

  “Don’t put yourself in danger, Spence, but whatever you can do to help will be most appreciated,” Missy urged.

  “No worries, ma’am. I know how to take care of myself.”

  Missy kissed Moose on the top of his furry head and handed him back to Spencer. “Thank you. Let me know how it goes.”

  “Will do.”

  Entering the Inn through the kitchen door, Missy heard laughter coming from the direction of the dining room and went to go see who had dropped by. The gaiety had actually come from Jeffrey and Ashlie, who were sitting at the table, drinking beer and playing cards. Seeing the surprised look on their hostess’s face, Ashlie spoke up.

  “Oh my goodness, Mrs. Beckett, you were so right, those cupcakes were amazing,” she grinned.

  “Umm…thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed them,” Missy replied, puzzled at her lighthearted mood.

  “We came down here to take our minds off of things,” Jeffrey explained coolly, giving Missy the impression that she’d just been dismissed.

  “Sure. That’s completely…understandable,” she murmured. “Won’t you excuse me?”

  “Have a good night,” Ashlie waved.

  “You too,” Missy called out, not bothering to turn around. She felt the eerie sensation of Jeffrey Mitchell’s eyes burning into her retreating back.

  Chapter 11

  Missy had given Spencer the keys to the Inn’s little economy car so that he could use it as needed, and tonight that meant heading out into swamp country, tailing Jeffrey Mitchell. He followed at a distance, blending in with other traffic, and killing his headlights once they meandered into more remote areas. The man from Indiana drove like he knew where he was going, which might likely be an indication that, wherever he was headed, was somewhere he’d been before. The night grew deeper and darker as the two cars slipped through it, leaving the lights of civilization far behind and venturing into realms where lithe and muscled creatures glided through murky waters and lay coiled up, waiting for prey.

  Spencer preferred to stay away from the swamps, where nature could turn on him in an instant, but he was determined to stay the course, and do his best to ignore natural distractions from the task at hand. He figured that if circumstances developed into a showdown, he at least knew how to use the terrain and absence of light to his advantage, something that he doubted was within Jeffrey Mitchell’s skill set.

  Mitchell’s car finally came to a stop where the dirt road that they’d been on ended. Spencer was thankful that the extreme humidity in the area kept the cars from raising dust. He was able to glide along behind the former frat boy without leaving a trail. He swung the Inn’s little car off of the road and behind a stand of bushes, effectively camouflaging it from anyone who might happen to be driving down the isolated road in the middle of a swamp at this time of night. He had modified the door latch quite some time ago so that he’d be able to open it soundlessly, so he was able to slip into the inky night undetected.

  Listening carefully, as he’d been trained to do, he heard movement up ahead, along with the telltale sound of Jeffrey’s car door slamming shut. Winding his way through the bushes, glad that snakes weren’t typically a factor in the cool of the night, Spencer followed at a distance, never letting the guest out of his sight. By his estimation, they’d traveled nearly two miles when a deserted-looking cabin rose up on the landscape.

  Jeffrey lifted up a floor board on the porch and withdrew something that Spencer surmised was the key, and let himself into the small cabin. He skirted around to the rear of the building to see if he could detect what was happening inside, frustrated when he discovered that all windows were shuttered from the inside. A light that looked like it came from a small lantern glowed suddenly in the little cabin, and Spencer approached the back wall of the crude dwelling, knowing that even that tiny bit of light would negatively impact the night vision of Jeffrey and whoever else might be with him.

  His senses automatically on high alert, the Marine listened carefully below one of the windows, hoping for some clue as to what activities were taking place within the cabin, but heard nothing that sounded suspicious. He crouched low and leaned his back against the rough-hewn exterior, determined to wait until something of consequence happened. His plan was derailed however, when he heard something crashing through the tall grasses just in front of a stand of trees roughly a hundred yards behind his position.

  Deliberately slowing his heart rate, unable to listen as carefully as he’d like because of the blood rushing through his veins and adrenalin flowing through his body, Spencer fought back his fight or flight instinct, calming himself with a repeated mantra that he was no longer in a war zone. When he closed his eyes, visions of shrouded faces bent on his destruction and the destruction of his fellow warriors, flashed violently into view, causing the Marine to break out into a cold sweat.

  Knowing that his enemy would be able to smell his fear, he reverted back to his training, concentrating on controlling his breath, slowing his body systems to an acceptable level, and relaxing the muscles that had locked into paralysis. With a shudder that wracked him, he deliberately buried the memories back into the abyss in his psyche from which they had come, and refocused on the task at hand. He needed to find out who was in the tall grass. His life might depend on it.

  Wincing at the pain of residual adrenalin burning in his muscles, Spencer set his jaw and moved stealthily toward where he had heard the sound. He arced to the left of the stand of grass coming in from the side, rather than dead on, and instinctively dropped low to the ground when a duck burst out of its nest, taking flight with a warning quack. Shaking his head at having been spooked by something as simple as a duck, he chastised himself for not maintaining his focus,
and, in his crouched position, turned back to check on the cabin.

  A noise to his immediate left made him want to turn his head, but the feel of a cold, steel point at his temple made him rethink that urge. Slipping his hand down his calf, his fingers closed on the knife that was strapped there, just under his pant leg.

  “You’ll want to take your hand off of that knife and turn around real slow,” a quietly menacing voice informed him, with a surprising lack of the accent that would be expected this deep in the Florida wild.

  Judging by the feel of the steel at his temple, the interloper had a crossbow. Spencer lifted his hand from his calf and raised both hands slowly above his head, turning toward the aggressor so that he could plan how to eliminate this particular distraction.

  The bearded and tattooed man in front of him lowered his weapon and regarded the Marine in front of him with curiosity. The two were about the same age, and close to the same build.

  “What’re you doing out here at this time of night?” he drawled, not bothering to take the toothpick that he was chewing out of his mouth.

  “Duck hunting,” Spencer replied, without expression.

  One of the corners of the man’s mouth turned up in a slight smile. “Looked like you found one,” he mocked.

  Spencer merely stared at the man, wondering why he seemed somehow familiar.

  “Put your hands down and stand up.”

  The Marine stood slowly, never taking his eyes off of the stranger, and noticed him eyeing one of his sleeve tattoos, a spark of recognition appearing in his eyes.

  “What?” Spencer asked, holding out his arm.