Snowflake Bay Cozy Mysteries Boxset 1

by C Farren

  There was another meow. Curious, Wren peered behind the counter. Gracie was curled up on a box of coffee filters, staring up at her with wide eyes.

  “Did you follow me?” Wren demanded. “How did you get here?”

  Gracie meowed.

  “I don’t like the idea of you wandering this far,” said Wren. The cat was completely ignoring her caring turn, purring away as if her owner was lavishing her with compliments. “You could’ve gotten run over or kidnapped or anything.”

  Gracie blinked.

  “I know you don’t understand my words, but you understand my tone,” said Wren crossly. She had to make her cat understand what danger she could’ve put herself in. “You know I’m concerned about you. You have to stay at home with Casper.” Wren suddenly had a thought. “He’s not here too, is he?” She looked around. “Casper? Casper? Are you here? I have treats for you!”

  She searched the place from top to bottom but found no sign of any other cats. When she got back into the main area of the coffee shop Gracie was asleep on the counter.

  “You’d tell me if Casper was hiding somewhere, right?” asked Wren. “You wouldn’t just let me get worried for nothing, right?”

  Gracie meowed again, as if announcing her presence, and went back to sleep. Wren envied a cat’s ability to fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

  “I despair,” Wren groaned. “I really do.”

  Wren’s cats were a constant source of amusement and anxiety for her. One day they were going to literally drive her crazy.

  The bell jangled above the shop door. It was Everett Rickard, Delia’s son, and his wife Chelsea. Everett was a handsome man in his late thirties with reddish brown hair and stubble. He wore jeans and a cute Christmas sweater with a badly knitted Frosty the Snowman on it. His shoulders were dusted with a light coating of snow. He had a vet’s practice in town, and Wren’s cats were his regular patients. Chelsea was one of Wanda’s grandchildren. She had brown hair in a tight bun and she wore modern metal framed glasses. She wore an identical sweater to her husband. They had four kids, one of which was eighteen and already doing advanced placement courses at the local college.

  “I heard on the grapevine that you were opening this place,” said Chelsea. She stroked Gracie on the counter. The cat grumbled from being woken up and gave Chelsea a look of pure contempt. Chelsea didn’t notice. “So cute.”

  “By grapevine I presume you mean your gran,” said Wren.

  Everett laughed. “That woman can spread information faster than the internet.”

  Chelsea elbowed him in the shoulder. “That’s my gran you’re talking about,” she laughed. “But you’re right.”

  As much as Wren liked these two, she really wanted to be on her own for a while. She was tired and not really up to smiling and chatting. She remembered the time after Alex had left her and she was forced to keep up her happy face even though she was dying inside. Smiling when you were depressed or worn-out was the worst thing in the world.

  “Can I ask a favor?” Everett asked.

  “Sure,” said Wren. “I was about to head over to the toy shop myself in a bit.”

  “Is it possible for you to make some coffee for the adults?” said Chelsea. She appeared tired too.

  No wonder. Delia is not the best mother-in-law in the world.

  “I would but I don’t have any milk,” Wren told her. “Sorry.”

  Chelsea grinned. “Black coffee would be perfect. It’s been a long day, getting the grotto ready for Santa and the children. Delia has been a hard task master.”

  Everett grimaced. “She has to have everything perfect. None of us seem to be able to do anything to her exacting standards.”

  Chelsea put her hand on Everett’s arm to comfort him. Was she intruding on some issue the two of them were having with Delia?

  “Shall I get started?” Wren asked them.

  “Please hurry,” Everett stated. “Mom is... testy today.”

  She told him them get right on it and they left. Wren hurried behind the counter to the coffee machine, glad at last for something to do. Did this count as her first job as owner of the coffee shop? It was quite gratifying, even though she was already mentally and physically tired.

  Twenty minutes later, there were ten plastic cups of coffee on the counter. She couldn’t find any coffee boxes in the back. Just one more thing on her list to order. Now all she had to do was take them over to the toy store without spilling them all over the place. She was sure she’d seen some cup holder trays somewhere in the back.

  “It smells great in here,” Fiona declared. She took another huge sniff and sighed with pleasure. She eyed Gracie, sitting on the counter, sniffing the coffee cups, and shrugged. “I knew you’d get this place running.”

  “When did you get here?” Wren asked.

  “I flitted into the office,” the angel admitted. “I didn’t want to startle you while you were handling boiling hot liquids.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “I have something to tell you about Keegan and his father. Prepare yourself.”

  Wren sat down when Fiona informed her of Keegan’s heritage. It was not something she expected to hear.

  “Do you think it’s the sheriff’s mom?” Wren asked. “That she’s an angel? She took off when Keegan was little. Maybe that was why.”

  “No,” said Fiona. “It must be further back in his ancestry than that. If the sheriff were half angel, he’d know.”

  She nodded. “Do we tell them? I think they have a right to know.”

  “I don’t think they could handle it to be honest. I think we should keep it to ourselves. It’s not as if it’s causing them any problems, is it?”

  Wren wasn’t sure she agreed but kept quiet for now. Keegan probably wouldn’t believe her anyway. It had taken her long enough to believe Fiona was an angel, even after seeing her wings. Sometimes it was hard to see what was right in front of you.

  She was about to ask Fiona to help her with the coffees when someone swaggered past the coffee shop. Wren recognized him instantly. It was Lenny Rinder, Wanda’s grandson and Chelsea’s brother. He was supposed to be in jail. Was it a weird coincidence that Wanda mentioned him early this morning and then he just turned up?

  “Lenny!” Wren called, opening the door. She had to catch him. “Lenny!”

  He stopped and turned to her. He seemed confused about who she was for a moment before his face lit up in a wide grin. Wren wasn’t surprised he didn’t recognize her. She cut her hair different and she was a thinner than she used to be.

  “Wren King!” he declared joyfully. He ran up to her and pulled her into a hug. “How have you been? It’s been ages!”

  “You haven’t escaped from jail, have you?” she asked, half joking.

  “I got parole this morning,” he said. “Apparently I’ve been doing good inside. I even got a law degree and everything.”

  “That’s great. I’m so glad it turned out well for you.”

  They didn’t mention why he was in prison. The whole town knew why, and that Lenny regretted it. He’d served his time. He was going to do something productive with his life now, and she was proud of him.

  “How’s Keegan?” he asked.

  “He’s okay,” Wren answered. When Lenny was jailed ten years ago, he had been dating Keegan. Wren even suspected they were going to get engaged. That all crumbled when Lenny was sent down. Lenny had dumped him, not wanting Keegan to waste his life waiting for him. It had been devastating for everyone involved.

  “Does he talk about me?” Lenny asked a little shyly.

  Wren had to be truthful here. “He did at first, but he hasn’t mentioned you in years. Sorry. I think it’s too hard for him.”

  “I’ve missed him so much. Is he... is he dating anybody?”

  “He hasn’t had a serious relationship since you.”

  Lenny’s gaze drifted across the road towards the toyshop. Families with children were waiting outside, waiting for
Santa to arrive. They all looked so excited. Had she ever been that young and believed in something so pure and innocent?

  “Your sister is in there right now,” Wren explained. “She’d love to see you.”

  He shook his head. “Chelsea wouldn’t spit on me if I were on fire.” He looked sad for a moment before saying, “I’m heading over to see Gran first. She’s the only one in my family who’s ever truly believed in me. I owe her so much.”

  Lenny and his sisters had been raised by their Gran, Wanda, after their parents died in a car crash. Lenny had been the youngest, so he didn’t remember the incident too well. He considered Wanda his mother, though still called her Gran.

  “Oh,” said Lenny, just as he was about to walk away. “I made friends with your father while I was inside. He’s doing well.”

  “Is he?” Wren asked. “Or is he just putting on a brave face?”

  “Maybe a bit of both, but don’t worry. He’s really doing fine.”

  Wren wished him well and off he went. When she turned back, Chelsea was staring out through the toyshop window. She looked so full of fury that Wren was surprised she didn’t smash the window with her fists.

  This family reunion is not going to have a Christmas miracle.

  Chapter 4

  “What would you like for Christmas?” Santa Claus asked.

  The little child sitting on his lap thought for a moment and said, “I want the latest MacBook Pro, a new bike, a PS5, and a holiday to Disneyland Tokyo.”

  Santa looked gob smacked. “Would you settle for some chocolate?”

  “Some Santa you are.”

  Mrs. Claus gave the child their gift, a box of Santa shaped chocolates, and they walked stiffly away, sulking. The child’s mother gave Santa an obscene look, almost as if accusing them of ruining Christmas. Wren wanted to throttle the little tyke. Talk about spoiled!

  “That’s the last of them for now,” declared Santa. He sat up from his throne and stretched his arms and legs. “This throne is really hard. It won’t be doing my hemorrhoids any good.”

  “Too much information,” said Mrs. Claus.

  Everyone laughed as Mrs. Claus went and locked the doors. They’d be open again in an hour, but Santa looked really tired. Wren was worried about her uncle. He should be taking his retirement seriously. He had a heart condition. Putting up with all this wasn’t good for him.

  “How do you think I did?” Uncle Camden asked. He sat by the coffee table near the back of the store where the adults were sitting. Wren had stayed to watch, enjoying seeing her uncle having such a good time. Mrs. Claus was standing behind the counter, using the blade on a Nutcracker toy to curl ribbons. It looked quite sharp.

  “Dad will be proud of you,” she told him sincerely.

  “It’s very tiring,” he admitted. “He can put the suit back on again next year. I can’t believe how spoiled the children are. I am actually disgusted.”

  “Children are the worst thing about Christmas,” Delia muttered. “Horrid little humans.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Wren, ignoring Delia’s mean comment. The woman was about as far from festive as you could get. She was more Scrooge than Mrs. Claus. “What kind of world are we living in where a three-year-old asks for a cellphone?”

  Wren suddenly felt old. She was complaining about children. Wasn’t that what old people did? Wasn’t that what childless spinsters did?

  I’m only 35! I have years left in me!

  She pushed that impossibility aside. She didn’t want children. She couldn’t conceive anyway, and why would anybody let her foster or adopt?

  Why am I thinking about this?

  “Why do you have this weird look on your face?” Uncle Camden asked.

  “No,” she said, deflecting. “I just need some fresh air. It’s stuffy in here.”

  She made for the back door, leaning against it, her feet unsteady. Why is it that years of nagging from her mother didn’t make her think like this about children, but seeing toddlers asking for cellphones on Santa’s lap did? It should be the opposite. Spoilt kids should make her want to swear off ever having children.

  There were voices coming from outside. Wren didn’t want to disturb them, so stayed where she was.

  “I saw him, Everett.” It was Chelsea. She sounded upset. “He was just walking down Main Street like he owned the place. I just wish I would’ve received advanced warning that he was getting out. I could’ve prepared myself mentally. I don’t think I can cope with this. I need a cigarette, not these stupid Vape things. They make me look like a douche.”

  “Nobody told you he was out today?” Everett asked.

  “Nobody! Not the courts, not Lenny. I bet Gran knew. She knows everything. Trust her to keep his secrets. She always loved him more than me.”

  “Perhaps it’s good he’s out. We can all get on with our lives.”

  “How can we ever get on with our lives after what happened? I’m scared. I’m scared he’s going to ruin everything. I can’t see our lives decimated because of him. What will happen to our children? What will happen to the little one I’m carrying?”

  “He won’t do that. You’re his sister. He loves you.”

  “Then why did he refuse to see me? I know he refused to see everyone else, but why did he shut me out? We went through so much together. He’s going to tell everyone. I just know it.”

  “No. No he won’t.”

  Wren walked away, heading back into the main area of the shop. If she went outside now, it would only look like she was snooping on them, which she was most definitely not.

  “They’re still arguing about Lenny I suppose,” said Delia. She was shaking out her white Mrs. Claus wig. “They’ve been doing it ever since we saw him earlier.”

  “He said he got a law degree inside,” said Wren. “That’s good, right?”

  “I really don’t care,” snapped Delia. Her face was thunder. Wren was a little intimidated. “He should’ve stayed away. That awful man is making my family miserable.”

  You make them miserable, you sourpuss.

  Wren didn’t say anything. The truth was, Lenny had ruined a lot of lives, even if he hadn’t meant to do it. What would she do if she was in the family’s position? What would she do if Cedric suddenly came out of his coma and moved back to town?

  “How’s your father doing in jail?” she asked, her tone judging and sarcastic.

  Wren gritted her teeth and pretended the woman was sincere. “He’s loving it. He says he’s stayed in worse motels!”

  “He stole from me, you know. He robbed my toy store.” Wren had forgotten this. When she didn’t answer Delia continued. “I just thought I’d remind you.”

  “I really am sorry. Dad knows he did wrong, and you got your money back.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Hey Gran,” said Kerry. “Stop being a cow.”

  Delia put her wig back on, turned around, and headed back to the grotto. Wren didn’t know what to say. She was angry, but her main emotion was guilt. The town would never forget that her dad robbed them, would they? Someone like Delia Rickard would always bring it up to win an argument.

  “I didn’t see you come in,” said Wren.

  Kerry said, “I’ve been upstairs, trying to keep out of the way.”

  Kerry was Chelsea and Everett’s eldest, an eighteen-year-old child prodigy. Wren didn’t exactly know what her specialty was, but her family was inordinately proud of her. She had long black hair tied in a bun and a full figure. She was short like her mother, but didn’t have as friendly a face.

  Delia glared at Kerry, the Nutcracker toy in her hands. Her look was icy. “I needed you down here hours ago,” Delia reprimanded her.

  “I was working on something upstairs,” said Kerry. “The college posts new math and science problems every day on their website. I have to do them or my brain goes stale.”

  “Just make sure you don’t end up being as useless as your mother.”

  There was
a knock on the front doors of the toy store. Wren looked up to see Benedict Treadaway. He had a little girl with him, dressed in a pink coat with a fluffy pink hat, pink mittens, and pink boots. Benedict was also dressed just as stylishly in pink and yellow. He looked like a rich widow going to the ski slopes.

  “I’ll get that,” Wren called, rushing to the door. She unlocked it. “We’re not open for another half an hour.”

  “Has Santa gone back home?” the little girl asked sadly.

  “He’s just having a coffee break,” said Wren. “Santa gets tired like normal people.”

  “Oh.” The girl seemed thoughtful for a moment. “I never thought that Santa was just like normal people. He always seemed so strong, like Captain America.”

  “Can we come in anyway?” Benedict asked. “It’s freezing out here.”

  Wren smiled and stood aside to let them enter. She locked the door behind them.

  “Is this your niece?” Wren asked.

  “I’m his daughter,” said the girl, grinning. “My dad’s pansexual.”

  She didn’t know what that meant, but she didn’t want to appear ignorant. She was sure Keegan had told her one time, but she’d been drunk and had forgotten. What was the difference between bisexual and pansexual? She’d have to Google it later.

  He looked at her confused face and said, “I’m attracted to personalities, not genders. That’s what pansexual means.”

  “Good to know,” she said. She hesitated before saying, “I haven’t seen you much since you moved in. How are you doing?”

  “I’ve had the decorators in, and I’m having a conservatory built in the back.” He smiled, and Wren looked away. That smile was dangerous. “When it’s all finished, you’ll have to come and have a look.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “I spoke to your father yesterday. He seems in fine spirits.” At her worried look he added, “He probably hasn’t told you this, but nobody would ever mess with Wick. His reputation from his former life of crime has earned him good standing with the prisoners. They look up to him.”

  Wren didn’t know that. She wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or scared. At least it meant he wouldn’t get shanked. But what if he enjoyed his limited fame? What if it made him want to commit more crimes when he got released? He was only serving six months. He couldn’t afford to mess that up.