Snowflake Bay Cozy Mysteries Boxset 1

by C Farren

  “Oh dear!” she said, panicking. “What’s going on? Someone is going to see!”

  She flitted inside the house before she could start a full-scale panic. She tried to push her wings back inside her body but they wouldn’t budge.

  What’s going on? This has never happened before!

  “What are you thinking?” Wren cried, coming back inside the house. “Someone could have seen you!”

  “It happened involuntarily!” Fiona protested. “I just got so anxious that they sprouted without me willing them to.”

  “Try to calm down and maybe they’ll disappear, or go back inside your body, or wherever your wings go when they’re not here.”

  “They can sprout in and out of my body in a single moment. All I have to do is will them.”

  “Then do it.”

  Fiona nodded, pushing aside all notions of sinister killers watching her every movement. She thought about Brock’s beautiful eyes, and her baby son, and the wonderful time she’d had last night with Wren. There were a lot more positives than negatives in her life.

  “It’s working,” said Wren. “They’re shrinking!”

  Fiona smiled as her wings vanished back inside her body.

  “Crisis averted,” said the angel. “Thank goodness.”

  “Has that ever happened before?” Wren asked.

  “Not really,” said Fiona. “But I haven’t had my wings for that long either. I’m learning something new every day.”

  Nobody had told her this could happen during training. Then again, training had been very brief. They’d told her she’d learn more on the job than from boring lessons. Maybe she was. Or maybe she was just terrible at her job? Wren’s life was actually worse now. There weren’t murders and threats and stalkers before this pint-sized angel turned up.

  “How long have you been an angel exactly?” Wren asked carefully.

  Fiona averted her gaze. “A year, give or take six months, but I’ve worked hard. This was just a... just a nervous reaction to something. I bet even Gabriel loses control if he gets startled by a centipede.”

  “You didn’t act like this when we found that threat on the door.”

  Wren was right. She’d been shaken, but had more or less accepted it. Why had this been so different? Why was someone spying on the house causing such an extreme reaction in her?

  “Oh Fiona...”

  “I don’t like the idea of someone watching me,” snapped Fiona. “It makes me feel unsafe.” She paused before adding, “I had a stalker once, okay? It was when I was married. This stalker made my life very difficult, and the police didn’t take my concerns seriously. I was very scared.”

  “What happened?”

  “My husband beat him up and that was the last of it.” Fiona shivered. “Just leave it, okay? I don’t really like talking about it. My pre-angel life is behind me now.”

  “LET’S JUST FINISH BREAKFAST and get on with our day,” said Wren, wanting to change the subject. The angel was obviously rattled. She had more to tell when the time was right. “I want to go and see Veronica this morning. She’s probably hoping to take advantage of the Metropolis being shut down, but I won’t let that stop me from quizzing her.”

  She was about to head back into the kitchen when her phone rang. It was Jordan.

  “Can I ask you a favor?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she answered.

  “I’m opening up the Metropolis today, but I need some help. You’d be forever in my debt if you agreed to work with me full time.”

  There was a flirting lilt to his voice that he must know made her crumble. The man could turn any sentence into a come on.

  I bet even his eyes are flirting with me.

  “Don’t you need to be organizing your father’s funeral?” Wren asked.

  “They’re not releasing the body until they’ve found the killer,” Jordan explained. “Please, Wren. The Metropolis was my father’s dream. I don’t want it to see go to wrack and ruin or have Veronica’s lame coffee shop get all his customers.”

  Wren looked towards Fiona, pleading for help. She’d put the call on speaker so the angel could hear everything. Fiona shrugged.

  “Fine,” said Wren, relenting, though not because of his sensual voice. “I’ll be about half an hour, but I need an hour off for lunch. I have things to do.”

  “That’s fine.” He went quiet for a moment. “Thank you for this. Like I said, you’ll be forever in my debt for this.”

  He hung up, and Wren couldn’t help but smile.

  “You’re almost drooling,” said Fiona.

  “You heard that, right?” she asked. “He was flirting.”

  Wren nodded. “He really was.”

  “And now that he’s taking over the Metropolis full time he might not be going back to college. Could the two of us actually have a future?”

  She couldn’t let herself get too excited. Things had a way of turning sour where her life was concerned. Besides, why would Jordan give up a promising career in law just to run a coffee shop? Why would he give up every glamorous woman in the world to marry a divorcee with bad hair, criminal parents, and no ambition?

  “You’re thinking about how terrible you are,” Fiona stated.

  “It’s my default mode,” Wren admitted.

  Fiona sighed with exasperation and headed into the kitchen. Wren contemplated phoning Jordan back and telling him she couldn’t come in, but she knew she wouldn’t. She was starting to run out of money, and a job had literally landed on her doorstep. She couldn’t afford to turn it down, Jordan or no Jordan.

  Yes. I’m going in because I need a job, and not because Jordan will be there.

  She thought she’d sorted out her feelings for Jordan yesterday. How had one single conversation brought her right back to the beginning again?

  “Hello?” a voice called.

  Damn. I left the front door open.

  “I’m glad I caught you before you went to work or whatever it is you do all day,” said Reba, just waltzing in. She had a plastic bag full of paper files with her. “I need to talk to you about your father’s case.”

  Wren gritted her teeth and smiled. It was too early in the day to be dealing with such a morning person.

  “Would you like a coffee?” Wren offered.

  Reba pulled a face. “Dear Heavens, no. I haven’t had caffeine in ten years. It makes me so hyper I almost start flying about the place. I’ll just have a blueberry tea.” At Wren’s baffled look she opened her purse and took out a small purple packet. “Here. I have some. You should try it. Blueberries are a superfood.”

  They entered the kitchen, Reba making herself at home.

  “Your father has quite the past,” said Reba, sipping her tea. It did smell quite fragrant. “I’ve made hard copies of everything. I thought you might like to have a look at them. See what kind of man he used to be.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know,” Wren admitted.

  “It’s not that bad,” said Reba, glancing at Fiona, who was staring at her. “Do I have something on my face?”

  Fiona laughed. “Of course not.”

  The angel smiled and exited to the back garden. Wren wondered what was wrong with her. Why had she been acting so weird around Reba?

  “Can I ask a question?” said Wren.

  “Of course,” said Reba.

  “How did none of the family know about my parents and their criminal past? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “From what my dad told me, your dad left home when he was sixteen with Aunt Dot and didn’t return to Snowflake Bay until after he got out of prison. Of course, they don’t know he was in prison. I promised Uncle Wick I wouldn’t say anything.”

  “Why did he leave home?”

  Reba shrugged. “Dad didn’t know.” She finished the last of her blueberry tea and stood. “Right. I need to go and see Judge Popovar. I’m going to try and get Uncle Wick bail. Fingers crossed.”

  Reba gave her an air kiss and left. Wren looked at the b
ag full of files on the table. What secrets would they reveal about her mother and father? What crimes had they actually been arrested for?

  She took the bag and headed outside. Fiona was sat under the gazebo with Gracie, Casper and the ginger cat.

  “I don’t need to know,” she said, dumping the files into the paper recycling bin.

  She knew who her father was now. He was a good man who’d done stupid things. His past deserved to stay in the past.

  “Has she gone?” Fiona called out.

  Wren sat by Fiona. It was chilly outside without a coat on. Winter always came early in Snowflake Bay, sometimes bypassing Fall altogether. Pretty soon there would be snow. Dad always liked to make a bet on whether they’d have a white Christmas or not. She only hoped being arrested put him off this particular holiday tradition.

  If he doesn’t end up in jail, anyway.

  “Why did you act so weird with Reba?” Wren asked.

  “I wasn’t acting weird,” said Fiona defensively. “I was still a bit jumpy after my wings sprouted out like that. I was afraid it would happen again.”

  The ginger cat leaped onto her lap and started to make itself comfortable. Wren smiled and gave it a cuddle. Gracie gave her a brief look of jealousy before going back to sleep again.

  “Am I doing something to attract all these cats?” Wren asked.

  “I think they’re just drawn by your kindness,” said Fiona.

  “Perhaps I’m too kind,” Wren admitted.

  WREN WATCHED THROUGH the window, uncertain whether to head inside. Jordan was wiping the tables down, singing an Ed Sheeran song. His eyes were red from crying, but he was trying to keep himself upbeat. Her feelings for him were seriously doing her head in.

  “Hey,” she said, opening the door. “The coffee shop never looked so clean!”

  His wide smile made her feel ten times better. “I’ve been at it all night. Dad would’ve hated seeing the dust and mess.”

  “Can we talk for a bit?”

  “Sure. Take a seat.”

  She sat down, uncertain what she was going to say. She knew she had to say something.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sitting down.

  “What do you feel for me?” she asked.

  She felt like a monster for asking him this question while he was going through a traumatic time, but she had to ask. How would she ever know?

  He looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “We go to bed, and it’s great, but that’s pretty much it. We don’t talk. We don’t go on dates. What are we?”

  Jordan was about to answer when something smashed through the window. A brick hit the back of Wren’s head and she screamed in pain as she was propelled from her chair onto the floor.

  Have I been shot?

  “Veronica!” Jordan shouted.

  Wren looked up. Veronica Van Clark was standing outside, staring in horror at what she’d caused.

  Chapter 22

  “I’m so sorry,” Veronica wailed. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

  Jordan was carefully wrapping a bandage around Wren’s forehead. There was a small gash, and it hurt a bit, but it wasn’t bad, and it had already stopped bleeding. It certainly didn’t require a trip to the hospital, which Veronica was insisting on. She was probably afraid she was going to get sued.

  “Why did you do it?” Wren asked.

  Veronica glared daggers at Jordan. “I had the water in my coffee machine tested, and they found traces of laxatives.”

  “Why would you think I did it?” Jordan demanded.

  A guilty look crossed Jordan’s face. It was brief, but Wren clocked it. She knew then that he’d sabotaged Veronica’s business. Was it on his father’s orders, or had he done it on his own? Either way it wasn’t good.

  “Either you or your father did it,” Veronica accused.

  “Does it matter?” Jordan asked her. “My father is dead.”

  “It matters to me. Now nobody will come into my store because they think they’ll never leave the toilet if they do!”

  Wren didn’t know whether to intervene or stay silent. It was none of her business. Maybe this was the perfect time to talk to Veronica?

  “I’m sorry,” said Jordan. “I only did it to help my father.”

  “How horrible!” Veronica cried. “You will buy me a new coffee machine.”

  Jordan nodded. “I promise. I really am sorry.”

  Veronica shrugged. “I believe you.”

  Now that the laxative mystery was solved...

  “Can you leave us for a bit to talk?” Wren asked Jordan.

  He looked confused, but said, “I suppose. I’ll just do a quick stock check or something.”

  After he’d left them to it, Wren checked her bandages. It was wrapped quite expertly. If the law career didn’t work out, then Jordan had a backup in nursing.

  “Does it hurt?” Veronica asked. “I really am sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” said Wren, secretly wanting to throw the brick back at her. “What I wanted to talk about was Garrett. What kind of relationship did the two of you have?”

  “We didn’t have one. We were rival business owners.”

  “But everyone more or less knows everyone else in this town. Surely you knew him before you decided to set up a brand new coffee shop barely five minutes’ walk away from his already established business?”

  The woman looked like she was about to make a run for it. Wren prepared to follow her, though she probably wouldn’t be much good. Her head was hurting far worse than she’d let on.

  “If you must know, we were in school together,” Veronica admitted. “The same class and everything. We weren’t friends, but we were friendly to each other when the occasion called for it.”

  “Garrett must have been really hot back then,” said Wren.

  Veronica smiled dreamily. “Oh yes, he certainly was. He was Prom King and star quarterback and school jock, but he wasn’t arrogant. He was humble. He was quite intelligent too, which rubbed quite a few people the wrong way. Good looking and smart? We can’t have that!” She realized she must have been smiling too much because she suddenly stopped and cleared her throat. “That’s the extent to our relationship. I said hello to him, he said hello to me. That’s about it.”

  Wren didn’t need to be Cupid to recognize a look of love. Veronica had it bad.

  “You were in love with him,” Wren accused. “You still are.”

  Veronica backed away, horrified. “Are you serious? Don’t be stupid!”

  “You’ve never married.”

  “I’ve never married because I’ve kept a secret torch for Garrett all these years? Not that it’s any of your business, but the reason I’ve never married is because I’m choosy. Nobody has quite yet measured up to my exacting standards.”

  She was definitely lying. The woman had clearly been in love with Garrett. You’d have to be blind not to see it, and even then, you’d be able to hear her adoration from the tone of her voice. Wren could understand why she’d lie. Admitting the truth could make her a suspect in Garrett’s murder, making her out to be an obsessed stalker who killed him because she couldn’t have him. But why did she open the coffee shop? Was it to spite him? To show him she could run a similar business just as well as he could? Or was it something else?

  Why do people lie during murder investigations?

  “I’m sorry for throwing a brick at you but I’ve already talked to the police and I have no desire to be interrogated by the local loser.” Veronica patted Wren on the shoulder like you would a sick dog. “I didn’t kill Garrett, and I didn’t love him. Get a life.”

  “Maybe if you finally admit your feelings.”

  “You’re barred from my coffee shop.”

  “It hasn’t gone out of business yet, then?”

  Veronica prepared to slap her. Wren braced for it. She could go toe to toe with this harridan all day. To be honest she was actually enjoying the verbal sparring. It made her feel alive.
<
br />   “Ever since Garrett died, I’ve had lots of customers,” said Veronica smugly. “I’m doing quite well.”

  “My dad dying worked out awfully well for you!” Jordan shouted.

  Wren wished she could shrivel up into a ball. She felt stuck in the middle.

  “How can you think I’d kill him?” Veronica asked.

  “I listened to all that bull you told Wren,” Jordan raged. “You more than knew Dad at high school. You were obsessed with him. When he didn’t ask you to the prom you tried to kill yourself!”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Dad told me. He found you and rushed you to hospital and you grew even more obsessed with him. When he married my mom, it just killed you.” Jordan walked up to her, all incandescent rage. Wren put her hand on his arm to try and calm him but he ignored her. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you all these years watching the house or finding ways to talk to him. You even tried to buy the house next door so you could be near him.”

  “That house has a south facing window.”

  Jordan marched over to the door and opened it. “Get out.”

  Veronica nodded, taking a few deep breaths, but for some reason she didn’t let rip. She just walked away.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” said Jordan. He was staring at Veronica as she crossed the road, almost as if willing a car to run her over. “She just gets on my nerves.”

  “You did sabotage her business and accuse her of killing your dad,” said Wren. He didn’t deny the sabotage part, and her trust for him eroded just a little bit. “You can’t blame her for being... crotchety?”

  “That woman is too cowardly to commit murder.” He looked at the door again. There were a few customers waiting for the place to open. “Anyway, we better get to it. We have customers, and I for one don’t want them going to Veronica’s place.”

  Wren suddenly wanted to go home. She hated this atmosphere. Besides, her head really was starting to hurt now. How could she stand up all day serving coffee when she felt this bad?

  “I think I need to go home,” Wren admitted. Her vision started to waver. “My head really hurts.”

  “I need you,” Jordan accused. “I can’t do this on my own.”