Decaffeinated Scandal: A Cozy Mystery (A Killer Coffee Mystery Series)

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Decaffeinated Scandal: A Cozy Mystery (A Killer Coffee Mystery Series) Page 9

by Tonya Kappes


  “Then she did it. I mean, she was running away from the scene,” Mom said and got up to get the coffee when the coffeemaker beeped done.

  “But she said to Spencer she’s got an alibi.” I walked over to the coffee bar and grabbed four mugs. “If it comes back that she was at the Cocoon Lounge, then we need to be looking for someone with long hair like hers.” I wrote “mystery woman” next to Sharon’s name. “Did anyone see somebody else with long hair at the festival?”

  We all doctored up our coffees while we thought about it.

  “If she didn’t do it, then who?” Aunt Maxi asked, bringing the coffee up to her mouth. “This is such a good brew.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled real big. “I’m not sure if y’all are going to be on board with the next person that I’m afraid has good motive.”

  “Who?” Crissy rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait to hear. His wife?”

  “No. She was standing next to me with Jimmer. Though she did have good reason to kill him because he was having an affair. At least that’s what I overheard.” I decided not to even go there at this time. “Camey.”

  “What? Roxanne Bloom.” Mom acted as though I’d cursed and she was reprimanding me. “You need to take that dress off right now. It’s squeezing all those lawyering techniques you spent good money on out of that brain of yours.”

  “Hear me out.” I put my hands out in front of me. “If Spencer can clear Sharon’s alibi, he’s going to find out that Camey wasn’t a fan of Ron. She’s been on an active campaign like me to get him not to build and put her out of business.”

  I also kept to myself what she’d said about shooting him.

  “You know,” Crissy hesitated, “I didn’t see her around the festival. I did see Walker, Iris, and Amelia, though.”

  “We need to figure out how to clear her name if she’s named a suspect.” Then I looked at my mom.

  “Aren’t we jumping the gun on this?” Crissy twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Besides, shouldn’t you be with Patrick?”

  “Which is a good point.” Aunt Maxi stood up. “I think all this can wait until Spencer says Sharon didn’t do it.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Mom smacked the table. “They are right. You need to go and be with your husband.”

  “We can clean up here so it’s all ready in the morning.” Aunt Maxi picked up a couple of our mugs.

  “You don’t have to. I’m paying Kelly to work the festival and close up the shop. Patrick and I are going to clean up the booth in the morning.” The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about leaving Patrick in the suite Camey had given us.

  “Then it’s official.” Mom stood up and outstretched her arms. I got up to hug her. “I want you to have the best life with Patrick. Now go.” She gave me a little push towards the door.

  “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” Crissy waved me off with a goofy smile on her face.

  They were right. Obviously, Sharon was seen running away by practically everyone. The chill running through my body wasn’t from the sudden breeze sweeping across the boardwalk. I turned to look back into the coffeehouse and looked at Mom. She and Aunt Maxi were cleaning up our little coffee party. I just couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to go wrong with the investigation and Mom could actually be a suspect.

  As much as I tried to forget the conversation we’d had about the exchange she’d had with Ron, the more I thought about how her words made her a suspect.

  Eleven

  “I was about to come looking for you.” Patrick answered the door in his plaid PJs.

  He looked so cute with the pups by his side.

  “Well, after a few minutes at the coffeehouse and talking to Aunt Maxi, Mom, and Crissy, I knew that I needed to be here with you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck to give him a big hug.

  “I thought you said you were waiting for Spencer to come get your statement.” He backed away with an odd look on his face.

  Pepper and Sassy bounced around me when I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me.

  “They followed me to the coffeehouse to get the scoop and we talked from there. Then I left and they locked up. When I got here I told Spencer that I’d see him in the morning because he was still processing the scene downstairs.” My eyes shifted to the wine glasses, bottle of chilled wine, and the spread of chocolate-dipped fruit on the table. “Look at this suite.”

  Looking at the outside of the Cocoon, you would never guess how modern this amazing suite was on the inside.

  “I bet Camey spent a fortune on this renovation.” I ran my hand down the back of a gray chair and looked out the double doors that led to a balcony overlooking the lake.

  There was a matching gray chair with an ottoman. A small white table between the chairs held a glass vase of fall flowers. The same gray fabric was used on a couch, with white end tables and modern tinted green glass lamps on each side. The carpet was also gray with a darker gray diamond pattern throughout. The walls were light gray with white trim. Around the room, there were several paintings of vibrant, red cardinals, the Kentucky state bird. “Very chic,” I trilled and walked into the other room where there was a king-sized bed with gray and white sheets with white rose petals sprinkled all over it. I bit my lip in excitement. “Another balcony?” I hurried over to the double doors next to the bed to open them and look out. The brown, silky curtains added a classy touch to the room.

  “Gorgeous,” my voice trailed off when I noticed the men in uniform walking along the beach with their flashlights, no doubt looking for evidence.

  “You’re gorgeous.” Patrick’s warm arms wrapped around me, shielding me from the cold not only from the outside temperature but from the feeling they were looking for something or someone more than Sharon.

  “I love you, Patrick Cane.” I turned around and met his lips with mine.

  It was finally the night I had dreamed about since I was a teenager and I couldn’t believe it was on the night of a murder.

  No amount of kissing, holding, and snuggling took my mind off of it. The chocolate-dipped fruit didn’t either. On my third glass of wine, I was still hoping to forget but that didn’t work either.

  My phone chirped with a text from the bedside table. I lay in Patrick’s arms in dead silence, wondering if he was asleep and I could sneak a peek. It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. . .

  “Go on, see who it is,” Patrick groaned, unwrapping his arms from around me. “I know you’re dying to see who it is and if it’s about Ron Harvey. Even though I should be having all your attention,” he said in a joking manner.

  “Are you sure?” I asked and smiled when he smiled.

  I reached across him and grabbed the phone.

  “It’s Spencer.” I sat up in the bed with the sheet curled around my body. “He said he looked into Sharon’s alibi and she was in the Cocoon’s bar all night. Even worse.” I glanced over the top of my phone at Patrick. The light illuminated my face. “A wig was found in the flowerbed next to the inn that’s the same color and style as Sharon’s hair.”

  “That means someone other than his daughter hated him.” Patrick sat up and looked at my phone screen with me as the text messages continued to roll in. “What does that say?” He squinted.

  “Patrick,” I gasped and slowly lifted my head. I dropped the phone. “He wants me to see him first thing. He said I’m not going to like his lists of suspects.”

  “What does that mean?” He asked.

  “It means that he’s looking at Camey.” Just hearing those words come out of my mouth left me with a feeling of dread that I couldn’t shake all night long. I refused to even think he was talking about my Mom.

  Twelve

  I watched Patrick sleep the entire night. I wanted my inability to sleep to be about my being excited about getting married, but it wasn’t. Spencer’s text had thrown me into a tizzy. My head swirled with so many thoughts about Ron and who really killed him because I refused to be
lieve Camey had anything to do with it. I definitely didn’t entertain the notion that my mom had either.

  I slipped out of the bed and scurried across the suite to the other room where Pepper and Sassy were each snuggled in a gray chair. Neither of them moved when I took a quick shower and threw on a pair of jeans along with a sweatshirt.

  Even though I was a newlywed, I had not lined up coverage for the coffeehouse to take a few days off, so I still had to go and open up and four-thirty a.m. was quickly approaching. Besides, lying around in the dark for another hour wasn’t going to help me. My brain was already in lawyer mode. At least I could get to the coffeehouse and get started on blending the coffee beans and making the pastries. That would help me relax and get my mind working on some theories about Ron’s death.

  The Neewollah festival might be over, but Honey Springs was still celebrating the fall season, especially along the boardwalk. Last night’s chill and cool breezes had knocked a lot of leaves off the trees along the lake as well as at the Bee Farm. The empty tree branches looked like eerie arms jutting out from the shadow of the moonlight, making my feet carry me faster along the boardwalk than normal.

  The banners on the carriage lights snapped in the early morning wind, a sign of the temperatures and weather in store for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t hinder the families that would come out for the pumpkin carving contest and all the goodies available at the shops along the boardwalk.

  The warmth of the coffeehouse hit me in the face when I opened the door. Norman was standing right at the door, greeting me. It was the first time I didn’t have to drag him out of his cage. My nose was met with a pleasant smell of cinnamon and pumpkin instead of Norman’s smelly issue.

  “Norman,” I greeted him and bent down. “I think your special food combined with my homemade treats has helped your belly.”

  He snorted, grunted, and rolled over on his back for a good belly rub. I smiled at his little freckled stomach. He was adorable and would make a great companion.

  “You know.” I pushed myself up to stand. “I think I have a pumpkin suit that might fit you and if I take you to the pumpkin carving contest, I bet someone will adopt you today.”

  He wiggled his way behind me as I walked through the coffeehouse flipping on the switches of the commercial coffeepots.

  “Are you ready?” I grabbed a leash from the hook and clipped it on his collar.

  This time he led me to the door instead of me dragging him. I let him pick the way he wanted to go and got lost in my thoughts, not noticing Emily Rich unlocking the door of the Bee’s Knees Bakery.

  “Hi, there.” Emily’s chipper voice caught me off guard.

  “Emily,” I gasped. “You scared me to death.”

  “Really? I thought you saw me since you were coming right towards me.” She laughed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just lost in my thoughts.” I held up my hand. “Did you hear?”

  “So it’s true?” She smiled and shook her head. “I can’t believe you finally did it. So, why are you here?”

  “It was kinda an impromptu thing. Want to go for a walk while I tell you about it?” I asked, trying not to be rude while Norman continued to tug on the leash to get going.

  Emily joined us on our walk along the boardwalk and over to the green space. I told her all about how I couldn’t bear listening to Mom and Aunt Maxi fuss. How I’d called Camey to see if she could help pull it off and get me the bride and groom costumes for the festival. My reasoning for the costumes was if Patrick hadn’t agreed to get married that day, at least we had costumes for the festival.

  “I think it’s perfect. Exactly what you wanted and I hope I get to do the reception cake.” She knew better to even think she wasn’t.

  “Of course you will.” We followed Norman down near the marina. I ripped one of the doggie poo bags from one of the complimentary stations the Beautification Committee had donated around and in Honey Springs. “The death of Ron Harvey hasn’t made it as romantic as it sounds.”

  “I was trying not to bring that up.” Emily held the leash while I cleaned up Norman’s poo pile. “We didn’t get to the festival last night, but my dad got a call from one of the guys that’d come into the bank with Ron. He told Dad that Ron had been found dead but he wanted dad to know the deal was still on.’

  “Guy? What guy?” I asked. “Did your dad get a name?”

  “No. He told Mom that Ron and one of his partners had come to the bank to open an account for the resort. He said after they left, he wasn’t sure how long the resort would stay open because the two of them couldn’t get along while they were signing papers, never mind running a business. Her words made no sense to me.

  “Did he say anything about his partner?” I really wanted to know who that was. “The reason I ask is because I think Spencer believes Camey did it. If I can prove someone else is a suspect, then I have to.”

  “You are asking for trouble, Roxy.” Her face grew still. “You can’t do this. Remember last year around this time when someone torched your cabin?”

  “It was Christmastime and I’m all good,” I told her and tugged Norman to go back towards the boardwalk. “Besides, this is also for the good of the Bee Farm.”

  “Which reminds me. I’ve got a few dollars to give you towards the fundraising. It’s not much.” The critters along the lake chirped and sang as we walked across the boardwalk.

  “It all adds up. I was hoping now that Ron was killed, the company wouldn’t be interested in moving forward with the deal and we could have more time to raise the funds needed to keep the Bee Farm open.” I silently fumed at the very idea of them building that resort.

  “Hopefully, they’ll find the killer. I hate that he’s dead. He was a father, grandfather, and husband according to the newspaper.” She stopped in front of her shop and grabbed the Honey Springs Tribune that’d been delivered in the short time we’d taken Norman for his walk.

  “I’m not sure he was good at the other things, but he was good at being a businessman.” A light bulb went on in my head. I knew that if I researched his businesses, I’d find some sort of dirt to show Spencer that there were people other than Camey who had a motive to kill him.

  “Congrats again.” Emily hugged me. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later,” I said over my shoulder because Norman was really dragging me along. “You must be hungry.”

  Norman was happily eating away the kibble I’d put in his bowl on my way back to the kitchen. The ovens were set to preheat and it was five o’clock. I’d taken a much longer walk than I wanted to, but at least I’d learned some information from Emily that I could chew on and look into. The Harvest Blend Coffee had brewed and a big cup was calling my name.

  I pulled out the dry erase board we’d used from the night before to write down the information Emily had told me and put a big X through Sharon’s name since Spencer had made it clear she had an alibi and wasn’t a suspect.

  It took everything I had to write down Camey and Penny – my Mom – as suspects. Neither of which I could imagine as a killer. It was like a recipe I just couldn’t get quite right. I had to see it in writing before I could throw in the ingredients. It was how my brain was wired and I knew that if I stared at a recipe long enough, it would come to me what ingredient I was missing.

  With each sip of coffee, I gained the courage to just write it all down. As much as I hated to even put the words out there, I had to do it in order to get a sense of what I was dealing with. It was the exact same process I’d used for clients when I was a lawyer, expect this time it was way too close to home.

  Under Camey’s name I made bullet points and listed what I knew to be her motives to kill Ron. The big one was the fact his resort would either slow down business at the Cocoon or result in the inn closing. The second thing I wrote down was how Ron had baited and belittled her in front of not only her guests, but her husband and granddaughter. I did leave out the fact she’d t
hreatened him in a conversation with me.

  Under my mom’s name, next to her bullet point, I wrote down how she had a beef with Ron about how she couldn’t have knowledge about Honey Springs since she’d not grown up here. He’d insulted her and she didn’t like that. Was that a motive for murder? I wasn’t sure, but I did know people killed for much smaller things than that and funny stuff happened when someone was scorned.

  I wrote a big question mark in the column next to mom’s information. This represented the guy that’d gone to the bank with Ron. He was a business partner of Ron, I wrote down. Under that I wrote how they’d had an argument at the bank.

  The oven buzzed, causing me to break out of sleuthing mode and into barista mode. The coffeehouse still had to open and I had to get the pastries in the oven. When I walked into the freezer, I looked down the row of frozen baked goods.

  Honey Springs was going to need some good comfort food and this time of the year was all about pumpkin, cinnamon, spice, and chocolate. Well, to be fair, any time of the year was good for chocolate.

  I decided to grab two Maple and Walnut Upside Down Cakes along with a few bags of Apple and Pear Strudel. Both of these would be perfect with a cup or two of my Harvest Blend coffee.

  I’d also picked one of my specialty desserts, Pumpkin and White Chocolate Mousse Pie. I had planned to bring it out for a special treat after the fun of the three day festival to lift everybody’s spirits after all the hullabaloo but today was calling for it.

  While I let the rest of the pastries thaw on the cooling rack, I put the scones, muffins, cakes, and the strudel into the oven.

  I picked up my coffee and glanced over at the whiteboard of suspects. My first investigation would be looking into the guy who went with Ron to the bank. But before I could even do that, I had to get the sidewalk sign out on the boardwalk and ready the coffee and treats for the Cocoon Inn.

 

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