Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries

by K L Montgomery

  “You look like you have something else on your mind, Ms. Baker.” He leaned toward me expectantly, his big dark eyes roaming over my face.

  “Yes, well…I have really enjoyed the two cases I’ve worked on,” I admitted. I hadn’t been able to call them “cases” or what I’d done “work” until now, not out loud to other people. But it seemed like the appropriate terminology for what had actually happened. “I am hoping, in the future, if something goes awry in our town, you won’t discourage me from helping figure it out.”

  “I shall endeavor to give you more latitude,” he replied evenly.

  That was the best I could hope for from Chief James.

  I thanked him and headed back to work, ever vigilant for Bryce Beach’s next crisis.

  “Thank God you’re okay!” Evangeline rushed down the stairs from her director’s perch on the second floor. “I was worried sick about you!”

  “But you didn’t try very hard to stop me.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Well, no, of course not.” She pursed her lips. “I know you better than that. You’re stubborn as all get out.”

  “Ha.” This was true. “I’m fine, and it turns out that Melody was in cahoots with her brother, who was undercover with the FBI.”

  The corners of her mouth tilted up ever so slightly. “That’s crazy. Molly already told me everything though.”

  I glanced across the library to the children’s area, where Molly was covering up her blushing cheeks with the palms of her hands. She mouthed, “Sorry!”

  “It’s all good. We should probably go celebrate,” I told my boss. “Angelo’s?”

  That’s where we’d gone after I solved the Bryce Beach Bandit case, and it was my favorite restaurant in Bryce Beach. Josie’s was nice, but it wasn’t Angelo’s. Besides, I wasn’t in any hurry to go back to the marina after what happened last night.

  “Actually celebrating isn’t a bad idea at all,” my boss said, a glimmer dancing in her dark eyes.

  “Why’s that?” As soon as the two words slid out, the realization spread through me like wildfire. “Oh my gosh! You got the job!”

  I said it so loudly, every patron in the library whipped around to look at us. “Sorry, folks, you’re looking at the new permanent director of Bryce Beach Public Library!”

  I could have sworn Evangeline blushed, if I thought she was capable of such a thing. Molly rushed over from her desk and slung her arms around our friend, doing a little happy dance. Tom, who was sitting at the reference desk, stood up and began to clap. Barbara, the circulation manager, also rose from her stool at the circulation desk and joined in the merriment.

  “I just got off the phone with the chairman of the board,” she said. “It’s official!”

  Next thing I knew, another swarm of people joined us from the back of the library. It was Jada and the rest of the crew from Tech Services. Within moments, everyone was clapping and cheering for Evangeline.

  The happiness that radiated through my heart in that moment was unparalleled. I looked over at Jada, and she mouthed, “It’s okay. We’ll chat later.”

  I nodded, then my gaze wandered over to the library lobby, where the Founders’ Bible was illuminated in its shiny new display case. I remembered wishing on it several days ago—a wish that I could put the puzzle of the Mystery at the Marina together…and I had. My wish had come true.

  Not only that, but all my prayers had been answered too.

  Two days after the 4th of July celebrations down at the boardwalk were subdued by rain showers, God really came through with some amazing weather for the annual church picnic. The congregation gathered at Lighthouse Park’s closest shelter to the water. Dozens of picnic tables were filled with members of Bryce Beach Community Church. And three more picnic tables were loaded with enough food to feed several armies. My mother’s famous chocolate fudge cake stood proudly, reigning over the dessert table on a tall cut glass cake stand.

  I’d already eaten a full plate of fried chicken, coleslaw, macaroni salad, green bean casserole, and some sort of fruit salad, but I had saved plenty of room for my mother’s famous cake. “Hey, Molls, you want me to get you a piece?”

  “No, no. I’m stuffed.” She patted her stomach. “I’ll get dessert later after I’ve digested a bit.” She went back to her conversation with Jada, who had joined us, much to our surprise.

  “Well, I was supposed to be out on the water with the Boxburys today, but in light of everything that happened…not sure I’ll see them for a while,” she had admitted when she first showed up.

  “But what about you and Carlton?” Molly asked her.

  Jada shrugged. “He’s got a lot to sort out… He asked if we could take a break. Honestly, I think it’s for the best.”

  As I approached the dessert table, I saw Dylan Steyer sitting with his dad and stepmother and a woman I presumed to be his sister, Melody, judging by my memory of her Facebook photos. I still wasn’t sure how her boyfriend, Dan, and his dad, Bob Summer, factored into the drug trafficking case. That was one of the details the FBI agents had left out at the debriefing. I figured if Bob Summer, the governor’s deputy chief of staff was arrested, I was sure to hear about it. It would be all over the news.

  Dylan gave me a little wave, and I shot him a smile. When I glanced over to see if Molly had noticed the little moment I shared with Dylan—and if she was jealous—I found her completely engrossed in a conversation with none other than Pastor Paul Bethany. He had stolen my seat and was now engaged in an animated discussion with my best friend, who was positively basking in a golden glow.

  Huh, well, maybe there will be something between them after all.

  I reached the dessert table, grabbed a plate and headed straight for my target: the tall crystal stand holding my mother’s famous cake. I went to scoop up a piece but noticed the server was missing.

  “Looking for this?” came a voice from behind me.

  I whipped around to see my parents standing there. My dad held the silver cake server in his hand.

  “Oh, Dad! I was looking for that!”

  “Not so fast! I think you owe your old man and your mom some hugs.” He looked down at my mom standing beside him, and she nodded.

  I’d barely seen my parents since my crazy night at the marina. I’d filled them in over the phone, but that wasn’t good enough. My mother said she wouldn’t believe I was really alright until she saw me with her own two eyes.

  “Well, here I am. Hug me!” I said, stretching my arms out wide.

  Seconds later, I was the meat in the middle of a parental sandwich.

  Another lovely Sunday, another perfect annual picnic by the water in my beautiful hometown. I was feeling rather blessed as I drove home. I planned to spend the remainder of this glorious afternoon on my deck, soaking up some rays and diving into my latest read.

  I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t surprised to see a small white envelope sitting cock-eyed on my welcome mat when I arrived at my porch. The memories of coming home from church after the Bryce Beach Bandit case flooded back. There’d been an envelope then too. It had said something about how I’d done a good job solving the mystery, and it was signed “An Admirer.”

  The whole thing seemed so silly, I assumed it was a joke. I’d stuffed the envelope in a drawer, and the only time I’d thought about it since was when I got the threatening note in my door a week or so ago.

  Stooping down to pick it up, I sighed. I didn’t know why someone was messing with me. Or maybe it really was meant to be a kind gesture, a gesture of friendship. It didn’t necessarily mean there was a romantic interest. Maybe it was just a concerned Bryce Beach citizen who was glad I was watching out for our town. It could be Mayor Steyer, or Willa Bryce Monroe, or even Tom Watson, my reference librarian colleague.

  I opened it up, and it was very similar in style to the first note, same neat handwriting and everything.

  Dear Sunshine:

  Our town is very lucky to have someone so diligen
t and tenacious on our side. Thank you for figuring out what happened to the dead fish. And for keeping our town safe. We need more folks like you in Bryce Beach.

  Your friend,

  An Admirer

  This time, it was the word “your” that was outlined with heavier strokes. Last time, it was the word “admirer.” I had no idea what those bolded words meant, but the note didn’t bother me this time as much as last time. I truly felt that I had a fan, and he or she wanted to commend me on my good work. I walked inside, stroked my two kitties on their heads and under their chins, and then stuffed the envelope in my drawer next to the other one.

  I guessed I’d have to solve another case to get my next message from my admirer. After grabbing my new book off my coffee table, I slid open the glass door to my deck. Making myself comfortable in my new lounge chair, I kicked off my shoes and wiggled my bare toes in the summer sunshine.

  I reveled in the wonderful sound of the book’s spine cracking open as I prepared to immerse myself in a brand-new story. The adrenaline rush I got from books would have to tide me over…at least until my next adventure…

  THE END

  Sunshine and the gang are back in Book 3 of the Dangerous Curves series, available here:

  Shooting at the Shore

  Learn more about the series at www.cozychristianmystery.com

  About the Author

  K.L. Montgomery writes #bodypositive sweet romance, romcom, and cozy mystery. A librarian in a former life, she now works as an editor and runs the 5000-member Indie Author Support group on Facebook in addition to publishing under two names.

  Though she remains a Hoosier at heart, K.L. shares her coastal Delaware home with some furry creatures and her husband, who is on the furry side as well. She has an undying love for her three sons, Broadway musicals, the beach, Seinfeld, the color teal, IU basketball, paisleys, and dark chocolate.

  Also by K.L. Montgomery

  Dangerous Curves Series

  Betrayal at the Beach

  Mystery at the Marina

  Shooting at the Shore

  Poisoned at the Pier

  Romance in Rehoboth Series (romantic comedy)

  Music Man

  The Flip

  Plot Twist

  Badge Bunny

  Wedding War

  Stage Mom

  Shark Bite

  Contemporary Romance Standalones

  Given to Fly

  The Light at Dawn

  Reconstructed Heart

  Women’s Fiction

  Fat Girl

  Green Castles

  Nonfiction

  The Fat Girl’s Guide to Loving Your Body

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by K.L. Montgomery

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by the author, made with images licensed through DepositPhotos.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-949394-34-4

  Published by Mountains Wanted Publishing

  P.O. Box 1014

  Georgetown, DE 19947

  mountainswanted.com

  Created with Vellum

  To Mrs. Killion, my elementary school librarian, who was the first person who encouraged me to write (besides my mother, of course). Bette Killion was a children’s author herself, in addition to being our school librarian, and she was a very special lady, of whom I have nothing but the fondest memories.

  http://www.wisdomtalespress.com/authors_artists-childrens/Bette_Killion.shtml

  One

  I had just closed out what was probably the best summer reading program awards ceremony I’d ever hosted as a YA librarian. If a successful program were a drug, then I’d be high as a kite right now as I stepped out into the early August evening. I didn’t normally work so late on a Friday night, but I tried to make this awards ceremony special to my patrons by turning it into a huge party—well, party by library standards. All my hard work paid massive dividends.

  “The looks on their faces,” my best friend and fellow librarian, Molly Simmons, reminisced as she fell in step beside me. “They were absolutely stunned!”

  “I know! I wasn’t expecting such an outpouring of support from local businesses!” Maybe they wanted to reward me for helping solve the two heinous crimes that had recently plagued Bryce Beach, a small, typically quiet community on the East Coast.

  “They love you, Sunshine. You’re like a celebrity around here!” Molly nudged me with her elbow. “Let’s go celebrate. Wanna go to Angelo’s or Josie’s?” She mentioned the two nicest restaurants in town.

  Before I could answer, a frail hunched-over figure caught my eye. “Oh, look, it’s Mrs. Monroe.”

  “She must be walking Natty,” Molly guessed as we headed in her direction. Natty was the elderly woman’s dog and sole domestic companion. As far as anyone knew, she only had two children and no other living heirs. She was allegedly estranged from her son and daughter, who had moved away from Bryce Beach decades ago.

  Willa Bryce Monroe was the wealthiest person in town. A widow, she was a direct descendent of town founder, Nathaniel Bryce, and she’d been the biggest benefactor of the Bryce Beach Public Library for as long as I could remember.

  “Oh, I want to thank her for the prize she sponsored for my reading contest!” I said to Molly. It was serendipitous that we would be running into her. I’d been planning to catch her during her morning constitutional on my way into work on Monday, but now I wouldn’t have to.

  “Mrs. Monroe! Mrs. Monroe!” I called out, hoping she could hear me.

  She looked up just as her Pomeranian took a massive dump right by the sidewalk. If we stopped to talk to her, we would be subjected to the lingering odor. Oh, great.

  Thankfully, she seemed to anticipate that would be the case—she was still pretty with-it for her eighty-ish years—and tugged on the leash to urge Natty toward us. We met her several yards away from the malodorous dung pile.

  “We just finished up our summer reading awards program,” I told her. “I wanted to thank you for donating a prize. The participants were thrilled! Everyone had a great time.”

  She clasped my hand in her tiny, veiny, shriveled one. “Well, it was my pleasure, dearie!”

  Molly stooped down to greet Natty, telling him he was a good boy and letting him sniff the scent of Murphy, her golden retriever mix puppy, on her hands and clothes.

  “I just can’t thank you enough for all the wonderful things you’ve done for the library, Mrs. Monroe,” I gushed as Molly rose next to me, grinning and nodding in agreement. We were both grateful beneficiaries of the widow’s kindness and generosity.

  “Well, goodness, girls, you act like I’m about to bite the dust!” She cackled then reached down to pat my arm. “You’re such an asset to this community, Sunshine Baker. Thank you for keeping Bryce Beach safe. There’s been a lot of riffraff infiltrating our beach this summer—and I fear this is only the beginning…”

  “Riffraff?” I repeated. I glanced quickly to Molly and then back to Mrs. Monroe, hoping she’d elaborate a little. “Riffraff” to Mrs. Monroe could just be people with tattoos or girls wearing crop tops, for all I knew.

  She made a tsk-tsk sound as her eyes bounced between mine. “I put a bid on that corner lot at Magnolia and Pine,” she revealed. “Because they want to put a…house of ill repute there.”

  “House of ill repute?” A mixture of a scoff and a laugh spilled out of my mouth. “What are you talking about, Mrs. Monroe?”

  “Well, it might as well be. It’s a ‘gentleman’s club,’” she whispered the last two words.

  “On the boardwalk?” Molly questioned, her blonde brows arched. “That doesn
’t sound like something the town council would approve!”

  “The mayor is fighting for it!” Mrs. Monroe continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow pushes it through. But not if I have anything to say about it.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sure I can outbid any developer!”

  “Wow, I haven’t heard anything about this at all…” My voice trailed off as I witnessed a flurry of activity happening further up the block.

  A shrill scream carried down the street, “Hey, come back here!”

  A figure raced up the sidewalk while a woman stood, fists perched on her hips in the parking lot of the coffee shop.

  A breeze swirled past us, and it registered within seconds that a Bryce Beach Police Department bike had just flown by. “Hey, Police!” I called out. This is certainly serendipitous timing!

  The bike jerked to a halt, its tires squeaking against the pavement as the officer whipped a helmeted head around to look at us. It was Allison Adams, the cadet. She was out on her own?

  “Hey, someone just ran from the coffee shop, and a woman screamed for him to come back. I think he might have stolen something. He was on foot…running south.”

  “I’ll check it out!” She gave me a confident nod and pedaled off toward the possible perp. I heard her mumble something into her radio as she sped away.

  “Wow, quick thinking!” Molly praised me.

  Mrs. Monroe shook her head. “We already have riffraff, and if that club comes to our town, it’s only going to get worse.”

  “Maybe you can stop the club,” I tried to be optimistic. “A lot of the growth we’ve seen are families and retirees. And we’re seeing more vacationers than ever before.”