Last Chance for Murder (Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

by Estelle Richards

  Olivia gestured at the pile of boxes around them. “They’re in here somewhere. I didn’t want to unpack too much in case we just have to repack everything to move into our real location.”

  “I don’t think repacking is really our biggest worry,” Lisa said. “And even if it is, let’s use it to harness Murphy’s Law in our favor. Get everything out and unboxed, and we’re practically guaranteed to need to move in soon, right?”

  “I think this one has espresso cups.” Olivia rummaged in a box, pulled out two tiny white china cups and handed them to Lisa. “Ta da!”

  Lisa grinned. “Are you ready for your first taste of caffeinated glory from this beautiful beast of a machine?” She placed the cups on the tray and packed the portafilter with freshly ground beans. She found her hands remembered exactly how to pull an espresso shot.

  A moment later she handed Olivia one of the cups and held up the other for a toast. “To Lisa’s Last Chance Café.”

  “And to moving into a real café space.”

  Her aunt’s toast left a bitter taste in Lisa’s mouth, which was washed away by the delightfully dark and bitter flavors of the espresso.

  “Mmm, that is really something else. You bring samples like that on your sales calls and we’ll have this mobile coffee thing going in no time,” Olivia said, smacking her lips.

  Lisa smiled. “It really is good, isn’t it? Now, I was thinking that if I baked a couple of batches of my signature Good Morning Muffins to bring as samples, we should pull in twice as many clients.”

  “People love samples,” Olivia agreed, “but we need clients sooner than later. Maybe you should start with drink samples, and bring muffin samples tomorrow to convince anyone who doesn’t immediately sign on the dotted line.”

  “And they say my mother got all the business acumen in this family.”

  Olivia laughed. “I do all right for myself. Now before you go, show me how to make this fancy coffee so I can serve clients on site.”

  “It’s pretty straightforward. First you dump any old grounds, like this,” Lisa said, demonstrating. “Now fill it with fresh grounds and tamp it down like that.” She went on to show Olivia the whole process twice, trying to keep her movements slow and easy to follow.

  After the second demonstration Olivia clapped her hands together. “I think I’ve got it, and that’s probably not just the extra shots of espresso talking,” she said, referring to their drinking of the sample shots Lisa had made. “Now let me give it a try. It can’t be any harder than mixing paint colors or blowing glass.”

  Olivia pulled a pair of shots for them. Lisa tasted hers, running the dark liquid around in her mouth to sample it.

  “It’s good,” she declared.

  Olivia beamed. “It’s the art of the espresso!”

  “Ok, I’m off, then.”

  Lisa made a tray of drinks and went to leave, but paused at the door. “What are you going to do if someone asks for a cappuccino or latte?”

  “I’ll tell them it’s espresso or nothing, and we’ll have an expanded menu later on.”

  *

  Lisa pushed the door to the real estate office open with her elbow, carefully balancing her tray of drinks.

  Inside, the receptionist sat at the front desk staring at her phone. Penny’s and Brett’s doors were both closed.

  “Hello,” Lisa said, waiting for the receptionist to look up from her phone.

  “Yeah?” A moment later the girl’s eyes drifted in Lisa’s direction.

  “I’ve got some drink samples. Mocha, cappuccino, or vanilla latte?”

  “For me?” Her face showed signs of life for the first time.

  “You’re the first person clients see when they walk in the door; you get first pick.”

  The receptionist took a cup and actually graced Lisa with a smile and a moment of eye contact. “Thanks, um, Lisa?”

  “You’re welcome. I never actually got your name,” Lisa said, remembering the girl’s total lack of interest on their first meeting.

  “Tess,” she said shyly.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Tess.”

  Penny’s door opened and Penny looked at Lisa with surprise.

  “Hi, Mom. Coffee samples.” Lisa proffered the tray of drinks.

  Penny took a cup and sipped. Her eyebrows rose. “This is excellent.”

  “Good. I take it you’ll be our first official clients.”

  “Clients?”

  “Mobile coffee delivery. I’ve got to get this business off the ground, even if there is a holdup on the location.”

  “I see. Yes, of course you can add us to the client roster.” Penny smiled.

  “But speaking of the location holdup, is Brett in?”

  “You know, he’s not, but I’m sure he’d love to discuss the situation with you over dinner. Should I have him meet you at Nero’s this evening?”

  “Mom. No. I already told you I don’t want to be set up on any blind dates.”

  Tess sipped her coffee and watched this exchange with amusement.

  “It’s hardly blind now that you know the man.”

  “Do I? Do I really know him? For that matter, do you?”

  “What on earth are you babbling about?”

  “How about his wife?” Lisa said.

  Penny looked confused. “No, he never said anything about being married. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I don’t have time for this right now. I need to secure more clients.”

  “Why don’t I print up a quick list of businesses downtown?”

  “That would be great. Thank you, Mom.”

  Chapter 15

  Lisa wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, leaving streaks of flour. Baking commercial quantities of muffins in a home kitchen was tough. She’d dirtied all of Penny’s muffin pans, run out of counter space for cooling racks, and noticed a new and worrisome hum coming from the stand mixer.

  The phone rang and Lisa nearly dropped the molasses as she fumbled to grab it and wipe off a finger enough to swipe it across the screen.

  “Hello? Hello?” she said, hoping she hadn’t missed a potential client’s call.

  “It’s Toby,” came her cousin’s voice. He sounded solemn.

  “Hey, cuz, what’s up? I don’t have much time to chat. I’m up to my elbows in baked goods.”

  “I have news. Your dead body has been officially ruled a homicide.”

  Lisa eyeballed the supply of toasted pecans, wondering how many more batches it would make. “Ok, yeah, I kind of figured he would be,” she said.

  “He’s been logged in as a John Doe at the morgue. We’re still searching for a next of kin, which means I shouldn’t really be telling you any of this.” Toby sounded tense.

  “A John Doe? I mean, do you want me to come down and ID the body? It’s Roland Comstock.”

  “Sorry, cuz, but he’s definitely not Roland Comstock. Or not one related to any Comstock who ever lived in Moss Creek.”

  “What? How is that possible?”

  “The Comstock family donated part of the money to upgrade the forensic lab. It was a few years ago, before I was on the force. Anyway, they gave the lab DNA samples as some kind of symbolic gesture.”

  “And he doesn’t match?”

  “He doesn’t match.”

  Lisa stared blankly at the timer on the stove, counting down the minutes until the next batch was done. “But then, he couldn’t have really owned the Folly. He couldn’t have legally sold it to me.”

  “Sorry, Lisa.”

  “But I gave him all of my money. In cash. Oh my word, I gave a total stranger a bundle of cash for a house he didn’t own.” She felt a little woozy at the thought. “Wait, have the police been through his things? His car, his hotel room, whatever? Have you recovered my money?”

  Toby took a long breath and held it before speaking. “No. And you realize how that looks, right, him taking your money and then you finding him dead.”

  “Wait, wait, are you saying…” Sh
e gulped in a breath. “Are you saying I’m a suspect?”

  “You didn’t hear it from me. Look, I gotta go.”

  Lisa slid to the floor. Her, a suspect? Sure, she had a criminal record, but it was just trespassing. Kid stuff. A stupid youthful mistake. But murder?

  “No,” she said out loud. “I’m going to find the real killer. No matter what, I’m going to find the truth.”

  *

  The little sign in the window of Moss Creek Veterinary was turned to Open. Lisa got out of her car and grabbed her samples, coffee as well as muffins, and marched up to the door. The practice had been closed the day before when she was making her first round of sales calls, but it looked like she would have an opportunity to talk to Dr. Morris this time.

  The bell tinkled as she entered the waiting room. The room was empty except for an assortment of scuffed and mismatched chairs, and a reception desk with a boxy off-white multiline phone on it.

  “Hello?” she called.

  She heard the sound of running water behind a door marked Private, and then Dr. Morris stepped into the room.

  The swelling in his face had gone down since the first time they’d met, leaving one eye a bit purpled but his lips and cheek back to normal. The little jump in her nerves reminded her of Carly’s assessment of him as a very handsome man.

  “Hi, Dr. Morris. It’s so good to see you again. I’m here today because I’m starting a mobile coffee delivery business and I wanted you to try a sample of the tasty coffee and muffins we’ll be delivering to your place of business.” She held out her samples. “I have cappuccino, mocha, and vanilla latte, and Good Morning Muffins. Allergy warning, the muffins contain nuts.”

  Dr. Morris’s eyes widened, letting her see that they were a warm shade of brown. “Sure, let me try one of those muffins and a mocha.”

  “Great, let me just set this down so I can get out my order notebook, and we can talk about amounts and frequency of deliveries.”

  Dr. Morris smiled at her and took a bite of the muffin, then a sip of the mocha. “Mmm, that’s really good. I was going to say I don’t know if we can use a coffee delivery service, but that is really, really good. Is that clove I’m tasting?”

  “You’ve got a good palate.”

  “It helps when trying to identify wild edible plants. Some of them look similar enough that it’s one of the only ways to be certain.”

  “Wild plants, huh? I guess that makes you a real wild man,” Lisa said, and immediately cringed inside at how silly and flirtatious she sounded.

  “Guess so.” He grinned at her, flashing his dimples.

  “So how about that order? I’ve got my order pad right here.” She looked down at the pad and clicked the pen to signal it was time to do business. “Mocha and Good Morning Muffins every day? Everyone likes a good morning.”

  “How about we start with Fridays? My surgical tech is here Friday, so make it two of each.”

  Lisa wrote the order on the pad. “You sound like a good boss. Your surgical tech is a lucky guy.”

  “She’s excellent at her job. I’m the lucky one.”

  “Oh, she. Right, of course. Are you two…” She trailed off, not sure how to phrase it or even why she was asking.

  “Both mocha fans? That’s a good question. Maybe we should make one of them a cappuccino the first week and give Shelby her choice.”

  Lisa jotted the correction into the notepad and wrote the name Shelby next to it.

  “I guess I’d better get going,” she said, gathering up her sample tray. She stopped next to the door. “I almost forgot. Did you find those kittens?”

  “In your carriage house? No, I wanted to let them have their first two weeks with their mother undisturbed.”

  “Oh, ok. Then you haven’t been kept off the property. Good, good.”

  “Kept off? Oh, because of the police investigation?”

  “Not exactly.” She sighed. “I guess you’ll hear about it eventually. It looks like the sale of the property wasn’t quite legal, and the owner,” she cringed at the idea of referring to Claire Comstock that way, “isn’t exactly keen on letting people come around.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m hoping to have it all straightened out soon, though,” she said, not at all certain how she was going to do that.

  “Then I guess you should give me a call when it is, and we can go find some kittens.”

  *

  Lisa checked the list of businesses Penny had printed out for her. The last name on the list was one she’d been avoiding, Jake Peterman’s construction and development firm. She sighed and turned the car toward Peterman’s office.

  At a stop sign, she considered turning around again. Would someone like Peterman even want to talk to her? He was probably busy, turning some other landmark into condos or pulling down another historic tree.

  Maybe she should head back and work on the next day’s orders, or do some paperwork. Or maybe, she thought, eyes widening, maybe Jake Peterman had a motive for murder. A motive that should be checked out. Discreetly, of course. Lisa nodded to herself. Very discreet, a model of discretion — that was her.

  She hesitated in the parking lot of Peterman’s, just for a moment, before grabbing her samples and going in.

  Jake Peterman was in the front office, leaning over the reception desk and pointing at the screen, his armpit right in the face of his annoyed-looking receptionist. Lisa came right up to the desk and set the samples down.

  She cleared her throat and started into her sales speech. She felt a blush climbing up her cheeks into her hairline as Jake Peterman looked her up and down as she spoke.

  When she finished, he grinned at her. “I’d love to have a sample, young lady.” He winked, reached out as though to pinch her rear, and at the last second swerved his hand into the muffins and grabbed one of them instead. He smelled the muffin. “You make these yourself?”

  “I did,” she said, trying to stay friendly and professional.

  He took a bite. “Not bad,” he said, taking another bite. “Not bad at all.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Why don’t we talk about your order? What kind of numbers are we looking at?”

  He laughed. “You’re a bold one. I like that in a girl.” He tipped his cowboy hat back on his head and looked down at her for a moment. “But I suppose I owe you something, after the way you saved me from handing money over to that conman calling himself a Comstock.”

  “Conman?” Lisa swallowed twice before continuing. “Why would you call him a conman? I mean, that’s speaking ill of the dead, isn’t it?”

  Peterman laughed again. “Only good thief’s a dead thief, and a man who gives you a fake name to sell you a property he don’t own, what else are you going to call him but a thief?”

  “So you felt conned by him. Did that make you angry? Angry enough to kill maybe?”

  Peterman snorted. “Angry enough to call my lawyer when he tried to raise the price on me, sure, but kill? Young lady, if I were to kill every man — or woman —” he tipped his hat to her in what he must have considered a show of chivalry or maybe feminism, “who tried to cheat me in a deal, ha! This county would be even more sparsely populated than it is. Besides, it’s you who got cheated in this one, ain’t it? Let me guess, you gave him cash. Were you angry enough to kill?”

  Lisa felt her temper, carefully muzzled until now, kick into gear. “Now you hold on just one minute before you go throwing around accusations,” she yelled, gripping the pen tightly. “I thought the deal was fine until just today, so if you think—”

  “Simmer down. No need to boil over at me. I’m just joshing you. If the man had that kind of cash, he was probably robbed. Now let’s break bread together and make peace.” He snagged another muffin and took a bite. “These things are good for the temper.”

  Lisa sighed and took a muffin, too. They really were good muffins. She relaxed her grip on the pen a little and took out the order pad.

  “Now about that order,” s
he said.

  Chapter 16

  Parked outside the gallery, Lisa looked at the last samples, feeling a strong urge to stuff the last two muffins in her mouth and then toss back the last mocha, even though it was no longer hot. She summoned up her willpower and got out of the car without gorging herself.

  She grabbed the sample tray, closed the car door and turned around, nearly bumping into someone standing very close to her on the sidewalk.

  “Sorry about that,” she mumbled, ready to go inside, record the day’s orders and celebrate her successes with her aunt. If her cost estimates were correct, they would be able to make a small profit with the amount of orders she’d collected.

  “You should be sorry.”

  The rude words were jarring. Lisa looked up in confusion that turned quickly to a mix of irritation and fear.

  Her path was blocked by the woman who had screamed at her in the street outside Nero’s. Lisa could smell alcohol emanating from her clothes and on her breath.

  “Whoa, hey, I don’t want any trouble.”

  “You don’t want trouble?” the woman laughed a disturbed cackle. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

  “Uh, I’m not going to get away with bumping into you on the sidewalk?”

  “You’re not going to get away with luring my husband to his death, you harlot!” the woman shrieked, spittle flying.

  It was clear the woman was deranged. Lisa held out the tray. “Want a muffin?”

  The woman burst into tears. “Muffins won’t bring Robert back,” she sobbed, pronouncing the name Roe-bare in a bad imitation of a French accent.

  “I don’t even know a Robert,” Lisa said.

  “You know him,” the woman hissed, pointing a finger in Lisa’s face. “I saw you with him at that fancy restaurant. Nero’s. A fitting name for a den of sin where men meet their mistresses.”

  Lisa was thoroughly confused. “You should really have a muffin, because you are not making any sense. I’ve been to Nero’s twice since I got home, once with my parents and once with Brett Lord and Roland Comstock. Whoever met with this Robert, it wasn’t me.”

  “I saw you there! You think you’re clever, tempting two men at once.”