Double Mocha Murder: A 2nd Chance Diner Cozy Mystery

by Beth Byers

  Table of Contents

  DOUBLE MOCHA MURDER

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  DEDICATION:

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  Also By Beth Byers

  Also By Amanda A. Allen

  Copyright

  DOUBLE MOCHA MURDER

  by Beth Byers

  The 2nd Chance Diner Mysteries

  Book 4

  Silver Falls isn’t a real town on the Oregon Coast. Neskowin, Lincoln City, Astoria, and Seaside, however, are. You should check out the very real Blackfish in Lincoln City or Bruce’s Candy Kitchen in Cannon Beach. But it’s the Oregon Coast…bring a coat. A waterproof one.

  For Steven. Like my other bros., you won’t read this.

  But this one is still for you, brother of mine.

  Loves, Me

  ONE

  “Carver Jones, you big lump,” Zee said—far too loudly—as she delivered his food, “You’re gonna be the size of the Goodyear Blimp if you keep eating like this.”

  I winced. For the love of all that was holy, The 2nd Chance Diner was full to the brim from The Silver Falls Scavenger Weekend. Yet here Zee was, passing around her special brand of vinegar, meanness, and sass without a care in the world. She didn’t care one bit that a hundred possible Yelp reviewers were listening to her harass her semi-boyfriend, semi-enemy Sheriff Carver Jones. Given that he was in full uniform and not a large man at all, they drew extra attention. That plus she was loud.

  The truth was both of them were players. Both of them dated around a lot. All I knew for sure about their relationship was that there was something there. Both of them were uncertain of the other and their recent…flirting…had left me on edge. It was possible they’d been caught in each other’s webs and neither of them wanted to admit it. For Zee that turned into snide meanness with flashing eyes that proclaimed she was attracted. For Carver that turned into him coming into the diner far more often. Coming in, watching Zee, and smirking every time she…pulled a Zee. Who’d have thought the sheriff would be something of a stalker?

  Carver was not, however, a lump. He wasn’t trim, but he was also nearing retirement age. He was solid like a man who was still strong and had been built like a linebacker but had softened. Just a little. Without fat, he just had less muscle.

  “You didn’t care the last time you got a full look, cara,” Carver said with a smirk.

  Oh, my…no! I growled as I crossed and refilled Carver’s coffee, shoving Zee towards the plates of food that needed to be delivered. Her eyes flashed with warning, but I ignored it as I said to Carver, “Cut it out.”

  He grinned innocently at me.

  “Save it,” I snapped. “There are families with children here. And people who don’t want to know what you two have been up to…like me! Especially me.”

  He smirked then. Without an ounce of regret or care.

  The next time I tried a plea, “Save it for when we’re not slammed and you’re surrounded by people who know how crazy you two are.”

  There had been too much question at the end of that statement, and his grin told me that I wasn’t going to get what I wanted. I cocked my head at him and his smirk didn’t fade. If he weren’t my boyfriend’s boss, I’d have kicked him out of the diner. Instead, I stomped over to the counter.

  “Roxy,” I snapped to our youngest waitress. She was a sweet little thing, and her youth might keep Carver in line. It definitely wouldn’t keep Zee in line though. “You take care of Carver, and you keep his table moving, so he gets out of here. Give him breakfast free if you have to. And give him a to-go cup of coffee the next time you refill, so he doesn’t have any reason to linger.”

  Our cook, Az, filled the air behind me with a deep honeyed chuckle, and I growled at him instead since it was worthless to lash out at Zee and Carver.

  “Don’t be like that, Rosie luv,” Az said through the window to the kitchen, “You knew what Zee was…”

  He’d have added when I hired her except I hadn’t. She’d been part of the diner’s package when I purchased it. She and Az and another waitress who…was in jail…for murder. It was a long, sad story. It had taken us six months to hire three more reliable employees and take the pressure off the rest of the crew.

  “When you didn’t fire her.” Az finished lamely. No one would fire Zee. She’d both get revenge and the business would fall to pieces. None of us were as good as Zee at that.

  I snorted at sheer idea of firing Zee. Like we could lose Zee. She’d have probably just kept coming in regardless of whatever I told her. Especially given that she ran this place—the rest of us were her minions. The entire staff were technically new to me, but Az and Zee felt like people I’d known my entire life. A year ago, I’d been a call center slave dragging myself through life and dreaming of owning a diner. I’d secretly played with recipes, saving every penny, on the off hope I’d be able to someday buy my own.

  A mix of losing my mind at the call center and walking out combined with an unexpected inheritance from my grandparents brought me to owning The 2nd Chance Diner far sooner than I’d thought. I bought the place last year. It was early Spring now and I was coming into my first busy season on the Oregon Coast.

  I’d found good friends in my employees Az and Zee. I’d found love in the police officer, Simon Banks, and I’d found buddies in the town doctor Jane and a hair stylist, Maddie. I had hoped for happiness. That I’d found was…a sweet, tender mercy.

  Or so I was telling myself yet again. It was just…this weekend. This weekend was killing me. It all started when Zee decided we needed to save Silver Falls and our friends from the evil food critic. He’d been determined to squash businesses out of sheer spite, and Zee hadn’t been having it. I hadn’t been having it. I had been behind the plan Zee, me, and our friends had come up with. I’d even paid for a lot of the advertising for this weekend. I’d been excited to see our friends come into The 2nd Chance Diner and report that their reservations were full. I might have even done little dances of triumph.

  We’d planned an epic weekend to challenge the best events that the Oregon beach towns offered. Lincoln City had an antique glass float hunt, Seaside had a sand castle contest, Long Beach had an Asian new year and kite celebration. Silver Falls was starting a scavenger hunt with tasting tours, a music festival, a craft fair, and a wine evening. We’d come together as a town in way that we’d never had before, and I had been excited until I’d hurt my back.

  Stupid me had slipped in the rain on the sidewalk. Stupider me had lifted my oversize Bassett Hound mix onto the counter at the vet office. Thinking back, the vet obviously didn’t expect the large dogs to be picked up and put on the counter. I just always did it with my little dogs and my Daisy from her puppyhood. Sweet Daisy, however, was huge now. She had crossed the line from puppy to large dog, and I’d already been hurting. The shock of pain that slapped through me when I lifted her had been a rude awakening. An awakening that awoke me over and over again every time I tried to move.

  Especially if I tried to flip pancakes, hamburgers, or lift trays. If I held the spatula against a cake and spun the turntable, my back hurt. If I pulled a tray of cookies from the oven, my back hurt. If I pushed up on my toes to kiss my Simon’s cheek, my back hurt.

  Given the line out the door of The 2nd Chance Diner, I was feeling that pain a lot. Adding to my pain was the unfortunate feeling of fate breathing o
n my neck. It was the cruel, cold breath of mischief. That might have sounded a little crazy, but I’d worked with Zee long enough to know when she was feeling sassy. Today was sassier mixed with vinegar. Shaken, not stirred. Ok, maybe it was me feeling crazy. I might have been a little doped up because of my injury, but Zee’s bright eyes were haunting me with whatever she was up to. Or about to be up to. She was actively looking for mischief, and I was going to get dragged in.

  As usual, Zee wore an old school shirt dress with her knobby knees sticking out, tennis shoes that would make a professional athlete happy, her white hair was pulled back drawing attention to her stubborn jaw, the long line of her throat, and her pretty skin. Zee was of an indiscriminate age, somewhere between 50 and 70 but with the energy of a teenager on steroids and the utter lack of care of a woman who hadn’t met anyone she couldn’t best.

  “Rosie, my luv,” Az called through the kitchen window.

  I looked up and over Az was a long stretch of Jamaican handsome. His dark chocolate skin was gorgeous, but it was his deep honey voice that I loved best. Especially because, unlike Zee, Az always had something nice to say.

  “George O’Connell,” Zee said behind me with that hint in her voice that was just a little louder and a little project—the first major clue that she wasn’t going to say something nice, “Your wife know you’re in here? Pretty sure she told me you were on a diet…” Zee’s tone said she would be telling George as soon as he had a chance.

  “Come on, Zee,” George whined. His whine said he knew he was in trouble.

  “She’s got a point, ya lump of lard,” Zee said glancing over him and then to Carver. She leaned in to George and the way she was tucked in close had Carver’s eyes were flashing at the two of them. He knew as well as Zee that George was married. And we all knew that Zee would never link up with a married guy but that didn’t remove the anger from Carver’s face.

  I closed my eyes and walked over to Az before I was forced to drag Zee to the back and plea—uselessly—that she be nicer to our customers let alone to Carver. She’d tell me some story about dating or babysitting George—you never knew with Zee—and then laugh in my face. She wouldn’t acknowledge what I said about Carver at all. The evil punk. She knew every aspect of my own relationship, dragging it out of me whenever she caught my blindsided yet she’d confessed nothing about Carver.

  “We’re almost out of strawberries and bananas, Rosie luv,” Az said. He glanced at Zee, shook his head, and said, “Someone needs to go get some more, or we’re gonna have to pull our special.”

  I winced. People were loving the special. Local friends who I hadn’t expected this busy weekend were in line for it. Paige from the boutique next door had come in the moment she’d heard about the special. I hadn’t thought it was all that exciting. Just a random idea of mixing two of my favorite things—banana splits and waffles. I’d added a side of bacon because I loved bacon. I’d assumed that the fresh strawberries, bananas, and pineapples mixed with butter, berry syrup and whipped cream would sell well. If people wanted it, we could top them with almonds, pecans, or both. I had ordered extra of everything for the special, as I always did. I hadn’t anticipated quite so many orders though. We’d had people asked to have the topping added to their oatmeal or request a side of just the fruit and whipped cream to go with their hash browns and eggs.

  “Zee,” I said, grabbing her, “We need you to get some fruit. We’re gonna run out if we don’t get more.”

  She squinted at me, and I kept my most innocent face on.

  “The special is more popular than I thought,” I said with a slow blink as if I didn’t know she was irritated I was messing with the awkward flirting between her and Carver. Of course I knew. It needed to stop while we were slammed.

  “I probably should go,” Zee said agreeably. Her voice raised a notch so the tables near the door could hear her. “Otherwise, I might tell our good mayor Roberta how useless she is. And admit that I was talking to the city council about running for Mayor in the next election. After all, she was the one who hired that scoundrel Murphy Jesse and caused this whole problem.”

  Zee took off her apron, grinned evilly at me, and headed to the back of the diner to grab cash from the box and her keys.

  When she came back, she said, “I mean…who would vote for the young, stupid upstart Roberta over me? I raised half this town.”

  I closed my eyes and stretched my shoulders and back. I heard Roberta’s gasp of fury, and I didn’t look her way. She hated me already because she’d had an on-again, off-again relationship with my boyfriend, Simon before I came to town. She’d even tried to get him to arrest me for the murder that had happened in The 2nd Chance Diner. Except, Simon had known it wasn’t me who’d killed that kid.

  He’d refused. He’d cleared me. And we’d been together ever since.

  I sighed as I lifted a coffee pot and crossed to Roberta’s table.

  “Coffee?” I asked brightly as I set two ice waters before her and her assistant.

  Her cold glare was my own answer, so I turned to the assistant lifting the coffee pot suggestively. She nodded and I filled the cup asking, “You ready to order?”

  “Two specials,” Roberta snapped. “No butter, syrup, or whipped cream on one.”

  “Nuts?” I asked, and she shook her head sharply

  I didn’t see what she had to pout about it even if Roberta was glaring daggers at me. She had hired the food critic who’d come to town and attempted to blackmail our proprietors. He’d been stopped by a woman to close to the edge of losing her dream business. By stopped, I meant murdered with belladonna berry muffins. Zee felt that Roberta was as guilty as the killer, Martha, because Roberta had brought Murphy Jesse to town without doing a lick of research.

  Murphy Jesse of Oregon Foodie targeted our town with shady reviews. After a bit of research that Roberta should have done, we’d realized that we might have similar fallout that other businesses had experienced. My two newest employees had their food truck fail after one of those reviews. The problem was that online reviews don’t go away. Big reviewers with a long history can keep a business from succeeding. It wasn’t right or fair. But it happened.

  And we didn’t deserve the same to happen here. Silver Falls was amazing. We deserved to be discovered by those who always went to Cannon Beach, Astoria, or Lincoln City. Silver Falls was a little town tucked along the Oregon Coast in between Neskowin and Lincoln City. The beach town at Silver Falls boasted a huge state park that poured a waterfall into the ocean with amazing hikes. The town had cute little shops, art galleries, and food to keep the foodies happy. Our bed and breakfasts were honeymoon and anniversary worthy, and The 2nd Chance Diner which I owned and Zee ran, bypassing the fact that I owned it, made amazing food.

  The line had been out the door all day. I’d expected it to be busier on Saturday morning since the first official events didn’t start until afternoon on Friday, but I’d been very, very wrong based on how we had people halfway down our building waiting for a spot. I’d already had to restock our supply of the cookies for the chocolate tour, and we’d sold out of all of our cakes. After the bakery closed, we’d have to make triple the cakes, pies, and cookies for the next day.

  I was just reloading our cookie display, glaring at Carver who was lingering over his coffee despite the to-go cup in front of him and the waiting customers who were still out the door when Zee rushed back in with a box of bananas in her hands. We’d only gotten busier since she’d left, so I was both glad to see her and exasperated that Carver was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, letting his eyes run up and down Zee’s body.

  “Zee,” Az called as Zee rushed into the kitchen, “So glad you’re back.”

  Zee had enough fire in her eyes to keep me on edge, but my back hurt. It was possible that the diner was too successful at the moment. Maybe my stress would lessen as soon as Zee was back on the floor serving people. I’d discovered that I preferred a moderate level of success
. I wanted to be able to take a moment when my friends, Simon, Maddie, or Jane came into the diner. I wanted to be able to breathe here and there. Given that I didn’t need the money, I didn’t really need to be worried about serving anyone either.

  Zee grabbed an apron, threw it on, and washed her hands. I saw her gaze stray to Carver and I tried a pleading look.

  She pretended to not see it.

  “Is there more?” I asked Zee with a sigh.

  When she nodded, I sent out Lyle to get it. He was younger and stronger, and Zee was magic in the diner. Lyle was a thin length of hipster lumberjack with kind eyes. He’d started working at The 2nd Chance Diner with his mom about 3 weeks before. He was good, his mom, Carmen was better, but Zee could seat a table, refill drinks, and take an order in the amount of time it would take me to deliver water.

  Carver rose as Zee stepped onto the dining room floor with a tray of food in her hands. It was all specials, and I watched as he crossed to her, entirely uncaring of the load of food. Roxy and Carmen giggled and Lyle snorted as Carver took the tray from Zee, placed it on the table and pulled Zee into his arms. He leaned her back, dropped a kiss on her forehead, eyes, and cheeks and then lifted her.

  “You’re welcome,” Carver called to me as he headed towards the door. He meant welcome for only dropping innocent kisses on her face. Given that our customers were laughing instead of offended, I saluted him and escaped to the kitchen.

  I didn’t want to hear whatever Zee said to him, but curiosity won in the end, and I turned. She had her hands on her hips, her mouth open, but he was out the door before Zee said a word.

  “Wow Zee!” Roxy called. “I didn’t think anyone could make you speechless.”

  With that, I darted into the kitchen before blood was shed. But Zee only laughed.

  TWO

  “Rose, how many more cookies do we need?” Zee asked as she put up an order for Az and started filling drinks for her table.