Snowflake Bay Cozy Mysteries Boxset 1

by C Farren

  The journey from Snowflake Bay to the city took an hour. She wasn’t sure it was worth it to enter a building that made her feel so small, but for now, she needed the unemployment checks.

  The unemployment office woman looked at her with contempt and said, “Have you been looking for jobs this week?”

  They both knew the answer to that question. Wren hadn’t been looking for a job because there was nothing that she wanted to do. Until she figured out what her vocation in life was, she would do something about it.

  Wren produced a perfect smile. “Of course. I’ve written many, many job application letters. It’s only a matter of time.”

  The unemployment office woman, Maureen, sighed. “Time is all we have. It’s always ticking away, stealing our life, until we end up old and alone.”

  Wren had always feared ending up old and alone. Perhaps she and Maureen could share a flat together with their fifty cats and moan about lost loves and ask the eternal question; when did it all go wrong?

  Wren looked behind her, at the lines of depressed people. There wasn’t a happy face among them.

  “See you next week then,” said Maureen.

  “Bye,” said Wren.

  She exited the unemployment office with less hope than on previous occasions. The angel had made her feel even worse about herself. As if she needed someone to magically appear in her house and tell her that her life was terrible. She knew her life was terrible.

  SHE STOPPED BY THE Metropolis, a cute little coffee house in the center of Snowflake Bay. She liked it in there. It was all silvery and shiny like the inside of a spaceship and the beautiful baristas always treated her like she was a VIP. She loved the exotic flavors of all their various coffees, and they made a mean strawberry and cream scone.

  “The usual?” the cute male barista asked. He was six-foot, with a scruffy brown beard and piercing blue eyes. He was the epitome of handsome and he made her visits worthwhile.

  I do not have a crush on him.

  “Thank you, Jordan,” Wren said, trying not to blush.

  He talked to her while waiting for the water to boil. “My last year at college starts in a few weeks. I’m kind of nervous.”

  “You’ll do fine,” she assured him.

  Jordan was studying law. He’d told her all about his ambition to help the small people, those who couldn’t afford high-priced lawyers and were shafted by the system. He had a noble goal and a career in mind, and she envied him that. Wren would miss him when he left.

  I do not have a crush on him.

  “Let’s hope my replacement is as nice to customers as I am,” he said as he poured her coffee.

  “Your father could never find someone as good as you.”

  Jordan’s father, Garrett Knowles, owned the Metropolis. He was a good man, though she didn’t know him that well, even though his family had lived in Snowflake Bay for almost as long as her own. Perhaps her town wasn’t that small after all. Or maybe she just didn’t care to know everyone so intimately.

  He blushed. “Thanks.”

  She took her coffee and strawberry cream scone to a small table by the window. She ate and drank and watched the world go by outside. Everyone was in such a hurry to get somewhere. What was so important? Why didn’t she have something important to rush to, something she couldn’t miss?

  There was the trip to Italy to see Miranda to look forward to. She had to tell her the truth about Cedric first, though. That would be painful. She and Miranda had made a pact to never lie to each other. Wren had broken that pact. She knew she’d forgive her, but that didn’t mean it was okay.

  “What are you thinking about?” the angel asked.

  Where had she come from? She didn’t dare think that she had just appeared out of nowhere, because then she’d have to believe that Fiona was a real angel and not a stalker.

  “I’m thinking about throwing my coffee all over you and making a run for it,” Wren told her, unable to hide her smirk.

  The angel smiled sweetly from her seat opposite. “That would be wrong. I might be scolded.”

  Wren began eating her scone. Whipped cream dripped down her chin, making a mess, but she ignored it.

  “How did you find me?” Wren asked.

  “I always know where to find you,” the angel answered.

  Wren suppressed a shiver. “Try saying that without sounding like a creepy stalker.”

  The angel began eating a large chocolate chip cookie. The snack had magically appeared in her hands. Had she used magic to make it come to being, or had it been in her pocket all along?

  She really is an angel...

  “Do you really want to know what I’m thinking about?” Wren asked. Maybe she’d have a little fun at the angel’s expense.

  The angel smiled, still eating, and nodded her head.

  Wren sighed heavily. “I was thinking about the angel that invaded my home last night, and how stupid she looks in that dress of hers.”

  The angel choked on her cookie and Wren burst out laughing. She looked at Wren crossly and vanished, the half-eaten cookie falling onto the floor.

  Wren couldn’t deny it anymore. The woman really was an angel. Well, either that or she had access to teleportation technology, and why would someone with such advanced technology want to pretend to be an angel and mess with her?

  “I wish people would clean up after themselves,” said Jordan, bending over to clean up the broken cookie. “I’ve had enough today what with Veronica’s ranting and railing outside.”

  Wren’s eyes were instantly drawn to his perfect bottom as it pressed tightly against his jeans.

  Well, fine, I have a little crush on him. What’s the harm in it?

  “Veronica Van Clark?” Wren asked. “She’s just opened up that coffee shop down the road. I tried it. The place is a dump.”

  He turned to her, dustpan and brush in his hands. “She was waiting outside when I opened up, accusing Dad of breaking into her store and sabotaging her espresso machine. All her customers had the runs or something. She was hysterical.”

  “She does like to make a scene.”

  Veronica was always the lead in the Snowflake Bay Amateur Dramatics productions, and she overacted marvelously. Wren didn’t know anyone in town who hadn’t had cause to cross words with the woman. She could get riled up if you so much as looked at her sideways.

  “I’m going to miss this place when I leave,” Jordan admitted.

  “We’ll miss you too,” said Wren, trying to hold back her drool. She really would miss him, and her silly little fantasies of him.

  He smiled wickedly. “I think I’ll miss you the most.” He winked at her and walked away.

  “What the...”

  She looked back at him, but he was too busy talking with the only other barista in the place, Aarna. She was more his type. The girl was his own age, with the exotic looks of a Bollywood star. Quite why Aarna wasn’t already a model, but working in a café she wasn’t entirely sure.

  He winked at me! Oh darn, he winked at me...

  “Why do you look like you just saw Chris Pratt naked?” Keegan asked, sitting down in the angel’s previously vacated seat.

  She grinned. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Wren told him straight away, of course. She could hardly keep such news to herself for long. Keegan grinned, enjoying the story, staring back at Jordan as he talked with his father behind the counter. Garrett was handsome too, sort of like what Jordan would look like in twenty years’ time.

  And that boy is going to age very well.

  “Why are all the cute ones straight?” said Keegan with a sigh.

  “Am I in with a shot here?” she asked. “Or am I being naïve?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Keegan admitted. He smiled and rubbed his deputy’s badge of imaginary dust. “But you need to take a chance. By the way, how did the date with the window guy go? He’s sitting over there, by the way.”

  She hadn’t noticed Cedric when she came in. He was
sitting at a table by himself, nursing a large frothy coffee. His mind was elsewhere.

  Did I do that? Did I make him miserable?

  Wren went through the story once again in painful detail. Every time she relived it, she felt more stupid.

  “Maybe I was too harsh,” Wren admitted. She watched Jordan as he stood at the side of the counter, talking animatedly on his cell phone. He was quite agitated. “He could turn out to be a great guy with a boring job. I might have just missed out on having a happy ever after.”

  Keegan shook his head. “When he came to do a job at the sheriff’s station, he bored me to tears with his story about double glazing. You had a lucky escape there.”

  Wren was cross. “You could’ve told me he was boring.”

  “You needed a date, even if it was with a man who could make a statue fall to sleep.”

  Raised voices behind the counter caught their attention. Jordan and his father were arguing quite heatedly. The other barista, Aarna, was hastily making an exit. She’d obviously witnessed this kind of behavior before and wanted to stay out of it. Wren, however, had never seen either of them angry before. They were always so composed.

  “That looks brutal,” said Wren.

  “I hate it when pretty people fight,” said Keegan.

  Wren gasped as Jordan punched his father. It was a rather half-hearted attempt, but it did the trick. Jordan looked contrite for a moment before running around the counter and out of the café.

  I have to do something.

  She ran to Garrett, pulling a wad of Kleenex from her purse. As he dabbed the blood pouring from his nose, she noticed an impatient customer at the counter and a milk heating machine about to overheat.

  What do I do?

  She grabbed a large silver coffee mug and shoved it under the nozzle before the hot milk could spill everywhere. She sighed with contention. Hot milk was a favorite of hers.

  “I asked for just a simple milky coffee,” the customer complained.

  Wren smiled sweetly and looked to Garrett for what to do. She’d worked in a coffee shop many moons ago but she didn’t want Garrett to think she was interfering.

  She moved the mug to the coffee machine, selecting ordinary coffee. It poured into the milk and she mixed it by hand with a spoon. It smelled divine yet there was something missing.

  “Do you mind if I put a smidgen of cinnamon in here?” Wren asked the customer. Garrett was sitting on a small stool now, watching her with curiosity. “You won’t regret it.”

  The moody customer, an Asian lady with a cute kitten cut, said, “Fine. Whatever.”

  Wren sprinkled a dash of cinnamon onto the coffee and handed it to the customer. They took a sip and smiled in pleasure.

  “That’s lovely!” the woman declared.

  “I make a mean cup of coffee,” said Wren smugly.

  The customer smiled and took her drink to a table. Wren was about to serve another customer when she spotted Veronica Van Clark enter the premises. She grinned and walked up to the counter. She tapped the next customer, local gardener and president of the knitting club, Mrs. Wanda Ivory, on the shoulder.

  “Can I help you?” Wanda asked grandly.

  Wanda Ivory was ninety-two years old, but after a lifetime of eating well and keeping fit she looked sixty. She was stern, with jet black dyed hair, and wore the latest fashions to come out of New York. She had more grandchildren and great grandchildren than you could shake a stick at. Everyone adored and respected her. Even Wren, once upon a time, had found herself asking the treasured old woman for advice. Wanda Ivory was Snowflake Bay.

  “Why risk drinking the slop they serve here?” Veronica asked. Her tone was polite, but the spite and venom underneath was obvious. “They probably haven’t cleaned their equipment in years.”

  “I always drink in here,” Wanda protested.

  “You could...”

  Wren had had enough. “Veronica, please leave. Poaching customers here is a dastardly thing to do.”

  Veronica glared daggers at Wren before pouting and leaving.

  “That woman needs a man,” said Wanda.

  Wren laughed. “You’re probably right.”

  She served the town matriarch, who sipped her coffee and smiled dreamily. She pushed a hefty ten-dollar note into Keegan’s silver tips jar and winked at Wren before she sat down at a table to enjoy her drink.

  Keegan gave her the thumbs up as he walked up to the counter.

  “Are you working here now?” Keegan asked. “Because as an officer of the law I should tell you that we get freebies here.”

  Wren smirked. “No, you do not.”

  “Anyway, I just got a call. There’s been another burglary. That’s the third business that’s been robbed in town in the past two weeks. This time it was Delia’s toy store across the road.”

  “Who’d rob a toy store?”

  Wren smiled as Keegan exited the coffee shop. He may not be your typical deputy sheriff, but he was good at his job. It didn’t hurt that Keegan’s father, Rob Fisher, was the sheriff himself. The man had wanted his son to follow in his footsteps as a police officer and had despaired of it ever happening when his son came out as gay. Everyone, including Keegan, was surprised when he revealed he still wanted to be a cop. Even Wren had had to put aside her stereotypical views of gay men only being hairdressers and wedding planners.

  She turned back to Garrett. He was staring out of the window. Jordan was sitting at one of the rarely used outside tables.

  “Are you okay?” Wren asked him.

  “I’m fine,” Garrett snapped.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. There’s no need to fuss.”

  Wren took a deep, calming breath. The man was just upset. He didn’t mean to take it out on her. She stormed back to her table and sat with her back to him. It was too cold to go outside at the moment. When she looked out the window Jordan was just walking past. Their eyes met for a brief second and he grinned at her.

  “I’m sorry,” said Garret, walking up to her. “I shouldn’t take out my problems on you.”

  She smiled, sympathetic. “It was none of my business.”

  “Can you...keep serving while I change?” he asked. There was blood all over his shirt. “Rob bought me this shirt.”

  He was referring to Sheriff Rob Fisher. Why would he buy Garrett a shirt?

  “I’d call Aarna back, but she gets triggered by other people arguing,” Garret added. “And I need to call the caterers for a dinner party my wife’s hosting.” He smiled.” It’s going to be an epic party.”

  Wren hesitated, not sure what to say. She didn’t want to work in a coffee shop. It was too hot and clammy.

  But the joy on that woman’s face when I served her coffee with cinnamon was priceless. I made her happy!

  She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  He smiled and headed into the back room. Wren took a deep breath. She could do this. Making coffee wasn’t hard. The coffee machine looked complicated, but she’d worked similar ones before. This would be a walk in the park.

  A familiar woman walked up the counter. She was tall, with pouty lips and a blonde wig. She was trying to look young but only managed to make herself look her age, which was obviously knocking on fifty.

  “What can I get you?” Wren asked, putting on her sweetest, happiest voice.

  “Where’s my husband?” the woman demanded. Her voice was gravelly, like she’d smoked forty a day since she was a toddler.

  Wren grinned. “Katie...”

  This woman was Garret’s wife. She hadn’t recognized her straight away because she’d obviously had some form of cosmetic surgery. It didn’t do her any favors. Her face looked like it was melting.

  “He’s in the back getting changed,” Wren explained. “Jordan punched him.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “This is all getting out of hand. I didn’t want it to come out like this.”

  The woman sighed and went to con
front her husband. Wren tried to ignore her curiosity about what was going on, but it was difficult. Half an hour passed as she served customers. Shouting and arguing echoed from the back room. She couldn’t tell what was being said, but it was impressive. Something had clearly upset the entire family this morning.

  “Sorry, we’re all out of scones,” Wren told a devastated customer. Garret’s scones always sold out very quickly. Wren could live off them for the rest of her life she loved them so much.

  Cedric exited the bathroom. She hadn’t realized he was still here.

  Is he spying on me? Have I got a stalker?

  Wren knew she should be concerned but Cedric was harmless enough. He was a boring man who led a boring life. He was probably just working up the courage to ask her out on another date. It was sweet, really.

  “Do you work here?” Cedric asked nervously.

  “Not really,” said Wren. “Can I get you anything?”

  He shook his head. “I really have to go.”

  He almost ran out of the place. Wren had to smile. He was acting very shy and insecure around her. Had she made that big of an impression on him last night?

  Maybe I’m actually... desirable?

  The idea that someone, even someone as dull as Cedric, found her attractive, boosted her confidence just a little bit.

  There was a loud crash in the back room.

  Maybe she should investigate. What if the argument had evolved into an actual physical altercation? Garret was a big man. What if he hurt his wife?

  Katie stormed out of the back room, followed by Garret’s words, “You can sleep at your mothers!”

  “You really are pig headed,” Katie snapped back, exiting the café. Her face was red, her cheeks puffy from crying. “Pig headed and mean!”

  Wren didn’t know where to look, and neither did any of the customers. It felt like they’d all waded into some sort of theatre show about the dissolution of a marriage. It was intimate and very, very embarrassing.

  Garret emerged from the back room in a clean white shirt. He sighed and walked up to Wren.

  “I can take over now,” he said. “Thank you for this.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Who knows?”