Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries

by K L Montgomery

  “Oh my gosh, you’re having a baby?” I shrieked. How in the world did she keep this from me?

  Her nose screwed up as her eyes narrowed. “What?! No! Not a baby.” She chuckled, her hand flying to her chest as she realized the hilarity of my misperception. “A puppy, Sunshine. I’m getting a puppy!”

  “Oooohhhhhhh…” I looked around the table and observed unanimous smiles and happiness for our friend. “That’s great. What kind of puppy?”

  “He’s a golden retriever mix,” she said. “A rescue. I pick him up from the foster family tomorrow.”

  “Awww!” Jada cooed. “I bet he’s adorable. Do you have a picture?”

  Molly whipped out her phone and scrolled to a photo of a small puppy with long, fluffy gold fur and sweet brown eyes. “I’m going to name him Murphy.”

  My friends continued to fawn over the photos of Murphy, but my attention was rapt on something happening far across the cove. Near the lighthouse, I saw a large Coast Guard boat drifting alongside a fishing boat. Hmmm, someone’s in trouble.

  Despite growing up near the Atlantic, I hadn’t spent a lot of time on or around boats. Not that I didn’t have any interest, it just wasn’t something I had much experience with. When I was in junior high, I had a two- or three-year stint when I wanted to be a marine biologist. I was pretty sure every kid went through that phase, but I was super serious about it at the time. My parents bought an annual pass to the aquarium, hoping to foster my interest. But then I got older and decided I was much too invested in books to abandon them for dolphins and whales.

  Being here at the marina sparked that curiosity inside me again. I’d always wanted to scuba dive, swim with dolphins, explore an old shipwreck. I’m too old for that nonsense now, I decided. I probably couldn’t even squeeze this big body into a wetsuit! I laughed to myself.

  “What’s so funny, Sunshine?” Molly angled toward me. The server had just returned with a huge round tray holding our salads.

  “Oh, nothing. Just remembering something funny from when I was a kid.” I stared wistfully back out at the sea, still wondering what was happening on that Coast Guard boat.

  Two

  Saturday, it rained all day, but Sunday dawned bright, and I went to church as usual. Molly pulled in right behind me in the parking lot. As soon as she stepped out of the car, I knew something was wrong. She had dark purple circles under her eyes, and her usually glowing alabaster skin looked dull.

  “What’s going on?” I adjusted my sunglasses on top of my head to make sure they weren’t obscuring my perception. Nope, she looked even worse once I took them off.

  “The puppy,” she practically growled. “He kept me up all night…”

  “Oh no!” I thought back to the adorable photos she’d shown us of her new golden retriever mix puppy at the foster family’s house. He certainly didn’t look capable of causing anyone harm. “Are you okay? Where is he?”

  She scrubbed her hands down her face. “He’s in his crate at my house. Let’s go inside. It’s too…sunshiney out here. No offense.”

  At least she hadn’t lost her sense of humor—she was still perfectly capable of making a wisecrack about my name. I gestured toward the church building, and we crossed the parking lot to the front steps. Our interim minister, Pastor Bethany, was right inside the door waiting to greet us. I wondered if the church elders were any closer to making a decision about making him permanent, or if he would be like Ryan the Temp from The Office, and someday just take over the whole church.

  “Good morning, you ladies are looking lovely today! It’s great to see you!” Speaking of sunshine, his face looked like a beam of solar energy had been projected right onto it.

  “Hi, Pastor Bethany.” I extended my hand to shake his and found his grip comparable to a wet noodle, limp and clammy.

  He ignored me, instead focusing on my friend. “Is everything alright?” he asked Molly.

  “Can you pray for her?” I answered for Molly when she flashed the pastor a nervous smile. “She got a new puppy, and it sounds like he’s a handful.”

  “Well, of course!” He grinned. “God loves all creatures great and small!”

  I thought that was a strange and somewhat flippant response to Molly’s dilemma, but I was more interested in getting her inside the sanctuary and to our pew. She often sat with my family if her sister and brother-in-law didn’t come—they were only sporadic attenders.

  Molly sucked in a deep breath as I pulled her through the sanctuary doors and guided her to our pew. “He’s so dreamy…” she sighed as she took a seat next to my sister-in-law, Izzy.

  “Who’s dreamy?” Izzy turned toward us, a curious look on her face.

  “Pastor Bethany,” Molly sighed again.

  I thought he was a nice man and seemed to be a competent minister, but “dreamy” would never come to mind if I were looking for words to describe him. So Molly had a little crush on the new minister. That was sweet. Maybe she was too tired to keep that little nugget of info to herself. I’d try not to tease her too much about it.

  I was getting ready to speak again when I felt pressure on my shoulder. I looked up to see Mrs. James, Chief James’s mother, with her tiny, veiny hand on me. “Hi, Miss Baker. It’s great to see you this morning!” she sang in her smooth, melodic voice that defied her age.

  “It’s great to see you too, Mrs. James!” When I stood up, I found myself looming above her, marveling at how she was nearly half my size, both in height and width. How someone so itty-bitty could give birth to a man of Vincent James’s giant stature was truly a miracle. He obviously got his size from his father.

  And speaking of her son… My brows furrowed as I looked behind her to find the chief of Bryce Beach Police looking like he was absolutely mortified that his mother was speaking to me. “Hi, Ms. Baker,” he said, forcing his lips into a smile.

  “Good morning, Chief James.” We’d had a little quibble about whether or not we were on a first-name basis back when we…uh…collaborated? Not sure if that was the right word for the Bryce Beach Bandit case.

  Guess we’re sticking with formalities—even after all we’ve been through together.

  He nodded as he waited for his mother to sit down before taking a seat himself. Then he turned to face the front of the sanctuary.

  “What happened with Murphy?” I changed the subject back to the little canine tyrant who had apparently cost my best friend her beauty sleep.

  “He’s just…” She shook her head and sighed. “He’s adorable, but he just wants attention all the time. And he doesn’t understand the go potty outside thing yet at all…”

  “Cats are so easy.” I knew that observation didn’t help my friend, but her woes only made me appreciate the relative ease of taking care of Bond and Paige Turner, my two cats.

  “Yeah…” She pursed her lips and focused her gaze on the front of the church, where the service was about to get underway. The choir had assembled on the risers, with the music director poised to lead their performance. “I hope I don’t regret getting him.”

  “It’ll get easier,” I promised her. My brother River and his family had a dog, a big English sheepdog. They’d had a bear of a time getting the poor girl housebroken, but now she was perfect—though she was roughly the size of a bear. “Hey, do you want to take him for a walk this afternoon?”

  Her face brightened for the first time since I first saw her in the parking lot. “Really? You’d come with me?”

  “Yeah, maybe we can take him down to the beach. You’ve got a leash for him, right?”

  “Yes! Let’s meet at Lighthouse Park after lunch.” She sounded thrilled with my suggestion, like it was the best news she’d heard since we’d recovered the library gala donations last month.

  I patted her knee and smiled. “Sounds like a plan!”

  The afternoon weather was glorious as I parked my Mazda and stepped out, the warm June breeze rustling my auburn curls. I adjusted my sunglasses and straightened the flouncy thr
ee-tiered shirt I was wearing over denim capri pants. Molly whipped her little SUV into the space next to me, and I spotted a tiny puppy in the backseat. My heart immediately melted.

  I watched her open the door and scoop him up after he came to the edge of the seat and stared down at the pavement, too afraid to make the leap. “Oh my gosh! Why does he have to be so cute?”

  “I know, right? It’s hard to get mad at him when he’s so freaking adorable.” She shook her head as she set him down in the grass next to the parking lot. He began to tug on the leash, jerking her forward. “And he’s so strong for the whopping fifteen pounds he weighs!”

  “Let’s take him down by the water. Retrievers love water, right?” I didn’t know how I knew that, having never owned a dog or studied dog breeds, but I did. Sometimes librarians just know things. We don’t know how, but we do. It’s one heck of a job perk.

  “They’re supposed to.” She tried to guide the tiny fuzzball down the path between the thick, scrubby bushes that grew at the edge of the parking lot, but he was insistent on sniffing every square inch.

  We finally coaxed the little guy down the path, onto the sand, which he was very unsure of at first. That little nose went wild, though, checking out the myriad odors that belonged to the sand, water and just nature in general.

  “So, what did you think of Jada’s news?” Molly asked as we made our way toward the surf. Murphy ran into the receding water and then right back out again when another wave rolled toward shore.

  “Oh, that she’s dating Carlton Boxbury?” I had almost forgotten, that was how much thought I’d put into it.

  “Yeah,” Molly continued, trying to guide Murphy away from a dead fish that had washed up onshore. “Eww, no, Murphy!”

  I had to laugh. “They sure like all the gross stuff, don’t they?”

  “Ugh, I know. He was trying to sniff his own poop last night.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you know anything about Carlton’s family?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, they’re not from Bryce Beach, so...” I kept my circle small. Very small. Like it was barely big enough to be classified as a circle. More like a dot.

  The Boxburys lived in Moon Point, a community down the coast, south of our town. The Boxburys ran a massive seafood distribution center that served most of the Mid-Atlantic. And they were one of the wealthiest families in the area; I knew that much. There were rumors that Willa Bryce Monroe, the matriarch of Bryce Beach, had a brief affair with the original Carlton Boxbury back when her husband was still alive. That Carlton Boxbury was retired now. His son, Carlton Boxbury II ran the company now. And his grandson, Carlton Boxbury III, was the one dating our colleague, Jada Booker.

  “Oh, I know, but his family has been around a long time. And they have connections to Bryce Beach…”

  I knew by that she was referring to Mrs. Monroe, the wealthy widow who was highly revered in our town. She traced her lineage to Nathaniel Bryce, who founded the town back in the mid-1600s when he and some other folks looking for religious freedom sailed from England to the New World. They were headed to the Massachusetts colony, but were blown off-course by a massive storm, only to be shipwrecked off the coast of Bryce Beach instead.

  I was still trying to figure out why Molly was so interested in Jada’s love life when my friend let out a shrill shriek. When I glanced up, I saw what startled her.

  Several yards away from the dead fish she’d tugged Murphy away from was a whole lot of them, their decaying dull-scaled carcasses strewn across the sand. My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my gosh. What happened to them?”

  Molly plugged her nose with one hand and pulled Murphy away from them with the other. He was very interested in learning more about them, stubbornly tugging her back toward the nearest fish. “I’ve never smelled anything worse than that.”

  I was sure the hot June sun beating down on them wasn’t helping in the odor department. They were an interesting sort of fish, a rusty reddish-orange on top and a silvery gray on the bottom. The smallest ones were about eight inches in length, and the biggest were a foot or more. They weren’t small by any means, and other than being dead, they didn’t look like they had been injured or half-eaten by something else before washing up on the beach.

  Molly had walked Murphy all the way back over to the lighthouse, where huge rocks jutted out into the water. She began to lead him up the rocks, with the pup pointing his nose into the wind, relishing the breeze as it blew his thick golden-blond fur back from his face. I whipped out my phone and snapped a picture of her and the dog, and then I took one of the dead fish. I didn’t know why or what I planned to do with it. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.

  We walked the trail around the lighthouse, which led to the picnic shelters further inland, then we weaved our way back to the parking lot. Murphy seemed to be getting tired, as he kept stopping and trying to lie down on the dirt path, his little pink tongue wagging out as he panted.

  “Think we finally wore him out?” Molly ventured as she scooped him up into her arms. His eyes fluttered open and closed a few times, and he licked her face.

  “I don’t know, but he seems pretty happy about it.” Seeing how cute they were together almost made me want a puppy of my own. Almost. But then Paige and Bond would probably plot my murder.

  So no puppies for me.

  As I walked back to my car, I couldn’t get the image of the dead fish strewn across the sand out of my mind. I swallowed hard and tried to redirect my brain to dwell instead on the image I’d snapped of Murphy and my friend climbing the rocks by the lighthouse.

  What killed those poor fish?

  Three

  My week started out well. Foot traffic in the YA area had picked up now that school was out, and my summer reading program was taking off with over thirty signups. That might not sound like a lot, but compared to the eighteen patrons who participated last summer—well, it was a huge improvement.

  “Hey, you’re that lady from the paper,” a new patron asked as she set a stack of books to check out on my desk.

  “Yep, the one who solved the Bryce Beach Bandit case—that’s what you mean, right?” I scanned her ID card and saw her name was Brianne Berry.

  Brianne’s heart-shaped face burst into a broad grin. “Yep, that’s what I meant. Is the Founders’ Bible that book in the lobby in the glass case?”

  “It sure is. Make sure to make a wish on it as you go out,” I instructed.

  “Make a wish?” Her blonde brows scrunched up as she looked at me with a healthy dose of skepticism.

  “Yeah. Throw a coin in the donation box, and you can make a wish on it.” It was something new I started when the rebuilt display case was installed—with security features this time. I had no clue where I came up with the idea, but my patrons seemed to like it. And I was collecting even more money for the library.

  “Cool.” Brianne collected the stack of books I’d scanned and tucked them under her arm. “Can’t wait to read this one. I’m going to start tonight.”

  “That sounds great. You’ll have to let me know what you think of it! You know we have a book review board right over there, right?” I pointed to the bulletin board I’d set up near the computers. There was a small table with index cards, tiny gold star stickers so readers could give each book a rating, plus pens and thumb tacks so they could write out a review and post it to the board. The only patron who had posted reviews so far was Anna Cooper—big surprise there, but I was hoping it would catch on. That and the make-a-wish thing.

  Molly was wrapping up a story time for her very youngest patrons, the ones who were only one to two years old. It was very short, to say the least. If they could sit still for fifteen minutes, it was nothing short of a miracle. For the most part, they all played with small toys while she read. Today it was The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle.

  “Hey,” she called across the area. “Lunch in the courtyard?”

  I nodded. “Be right there.”

  A line of fol
ks waiting to be checked out had assembled at my desk. To be honest, I got the bright idea for the make-a-wish thing because I’d wished for new patrons and a full YA area this summer, and it looked like my wish was coming true! Maybe the spirit of Nathaniel Bryce was helping me? Maybe the Good Lord was doing me a solid? I was definitely a fan, no matter who was to thank.

  A discussion was already in progress out in the courtyard by the time I joined Jada, Evangeline, and Molly. I had a leftover boneless porkchop that I’d stuck on a bun and some apple slices, and I planned to scarf them down in about three bites, I was so hungry.

  “Hey, did you guys see the news this morning?” Evangeline looked up from her pasta salad.

  “News?” All of our ears perked up. Living in a small town, our definition of news and what might pass for news in a bigger city were very different. But we were all still eager to find out what it was.

  “Yeah, The Bryce Beach Gazette reported that a bunch of dead fish and other sea creatures washed up near the marina,” Evangeline reported. “They had a photo too. Looked pretty gruesome.”

  I hadn’t forgotten about the discovery I’d made with Molly and Murphy just a few days ago. “What kind of fish? Were they red?”

  “All different kinds,” she answered. “And there were horseshoe crabs, jellyfish, and even a small shark.”

  “Wow.” I felt like I’d taken a punch to the gut. When I’d seen the dead fish the other day at Lighthouse Park with Molly, I suspected something was wrong. But now I was sure of it. “Do they know why they died and washed up?”

  “No. They said they’d get a marine biologist out there to take a look, but the police didn’t seem too worried. They said there’s no evidence of foul play, and even if there was, it took place on the water, more than likely, so it’s not their jurisdiction.” Evangeline shrugged and went back to her pasta salad.

  “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a marine biologist when I grew up,” I shared with the group.