by Evelyn Amber
Down the Rabbit Hole
Ashbrook Bookshop Cozy Mystery Series - Book 1
Evelyn Amber
Published by Evelyn Amber in 2018
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © Evelyn Amber.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For questions and comments about this book, please contact [email protected]
http://www.evelynamber.com
About This Book
Released: November 20th 2019
Words: 42,000
Series: Book 1 - Ashbrook Bookshop Cozy Mystery Series
Standalone: Yes
Cliff-hanger: No
Alice Taylor has plenty on her hands with menopause, her bookshop, her ex-husband, her fighting children, and her daughter leaving for university, so the last thing she needs is a murder to solve.
But that's precisely what happens when she falls down the rabbit hole in search of a rare copy of Alice in Wonderland that she sold after it was accidentally donated to her shop. When the buyer of the book, Trevor, turns up dead, Alice vows to solve the mystery for the sake of Trevor's wife, and Alice's best friend, Minnie.
With old and new faces lurking around the sleepy town of Ashbrook, Alice isn't short of suspects, but who would murder for the sake of a book? As her life starts to resemble the wacky world of Wonderland, can Alice solve Trevor's murder before it's too late?
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Also by Evelyn Amber
The Ashbrook Bookshop Series
Down the Rabbit Hole
The Scarlet Cove Seaside Series (Co-written with Agatha Frost)
Dead in the Water
Castle on the Hill
Stroke of Death
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Thank You!
Dead in the Water - Chapter 1
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Also by Evelyn Amber
1
“Menopause!” Alice Taylor exclaimed to herself, wiping sweat from her forehead before forcing a pan lid back down on a steaming pot of potatoes.
Alice already had every window in her spacious cottage open, and still, she felt like she was in a furnace. Her kitten heels clicked on the kitchen floor as she teetered to the bottom of the stairs. She had always hated wearing heels, but she didn’t want to give her ex-husband any more ammunition to comment on her appearance.
“Holly?” she shouted. “Holly! Get down here and help your mother.”
She glanced back at the various pots and pans; one was close to bubbling over. Running her hands through her soaked hair, she rushed back to the stove. She picked up the lid of the bubbling pot and dropped it, causing it to shatter onto the floor.
“Ouch!” she cried out, shaking her hand dramatically.
Alice looked to her right and didn’t think twice before opening her freezer door. She bent down and plunged her head inside, and the relief of the cool air washed over her.
“Mum?” a soft male voice called from behind her. “What are you doing?”
She turned to her handsome, eldest son and realised how ridiculous she looked.
“Justin, thank goodness you’re here,” Alice said, her knees cracking as she stood back up. “I didn’t hear you come in. Be a love and help your mother out.”
Justin smiled and walked around the kitchen island to greet her. The glass from her mishap crunched under his brown leather Oxfords. He placed a bouquet of colourful flowers on the island and kissed her on the cheek.
“I’ll clean this mess up.”
Justin shuffled past Alice and attempted to open a wooden door under the stairs. It creaked under the pressure and took a second harder tug before it opened, sending mops and brushes crashing down on him.
“Oh, dear!” Alice exclaimed. “I’ve been meaning to clear that out.”
He retrieved a brush and dust-pan and pushed the contents back into the small space haphazardly before forcing the door shut. Alice fanned herself with her hands, her cheeks the colour of a beetroot.
“Calm down, Mum,” Justin assured her with a soft pat on the shoulder. “I’ll sort the glass, you keep an eye on the food.”
“Is it me or is it hot in here?” she asked, dabbing at her neck with a tea towel as she reached across the sink to push the window open further.
“It’s you.” Justin laughed.
Alice turned her back on him as he got on his knees to sweep up the shards of glass.
“Where’s Holly?” he asked before being interrupted by a much higher pitched voice from upstairs.
“Mum, when’s tea?” the voice shouted as fast footsteps rushed down the stairs. “I’m starving!”
"Speak of the devil, and she shall appear," Justin said, raising his eyebrows at his eighteen-year-old sister when she appeared in the doorway.
“Who are you calling the devil?” Holly asked as she pursed her heavily lined lips at him before breaking into a smile.
Holly sauntered into the kitchen and plucked a carrot slice from the chopping board; she was about to reach for a second before Alice slapped her hand away.
“You’ll spoil your dinner.”
“You won’t have Mum to cook for you when you’re away at university,” Justin said before dusting the glass into the bin.
Justin leant against the white kitchen island, which was the most modern thing in Alice’s otherwise homely and dated kitchen. He raised his eyebrows again at his sister. Holly narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.
“Shut up,” she joked, pushing him as she walked past, flipping her thick blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Holly,” Alice said before her daughter could sneak away, “please set the table.”
Holly huffed melodramatically as she plodded back into the kitchen.
“Such a hard life,” Justin teased.
Holly rolled her eyes before she retrieved white plates and bowls embellished with gold trim from a cabinet before closing it with her foot. She balanced them perfectly as she walked out of the kitchen and turned left into the dining room.
“Can you smell burning?” Justin asked, sniffing.
“What?”
“I can smell burning,” Justin repeated.
“The chicken!”
Alice opened the oven door and smoke engulfed the entire kitchen. It only took a second for the ear-splitting wailing of the fire alarm to fill the cottage.
“Where’s the fire?” Holly screeched, drowned out by the beeping.
They exchanged glances as though waiting for the other to do something. Justin grabbed a tea-towel from the counter and reached on his tip-toes to waft the air away from the detector. It took Alice wafting the back door for the screeching to finally stop.
&nbs
p; Alice took the charred chicken out of the oven, and slapped the tray onto the kitchen side. She huffed a few fallen strands of hair from her face as she stared at the chicken’s scorched skin.
“It’s ruined,” she muttered as she planted her hands on her hips. “Your father is going to have a field day!”
“Let me try to sort it.” Justin nudged her out of the way. “See, it’s the skin that’s burnt. It was the oil that caused all the smoke. As for Dad, you’re as sassy as he is.”
Alice smiled at her son, grateful for his kind and supportive nature. Deciding feeling sorry for herself would not fix anything, she clapped her hands and added the vegetables to serving dishes. After she finished plating up the rest of the food, she set it out on the old dining room table that she had received as a wedding gift; Gordon had graciously let her keep it when their divorce had finalised.
They took their seats around the table, the room silent as the grandfather clock ticked away.
“Where’s Dad?” Holly whined, taking a break from scrolling through her phone. “I’m so hungry.”
“He’s late,” Alice stated, “as usual.”
They waited for another ten minutes before Alice’s ex-husband and her middle son, Lucas, arrived.
“So nice of you to join us,” Alice said when Gordon and Lucas appeared in the doorway of the dining room without so much as a greeting. “It’s polite to turn up ten minutes early, not ten minutes late.”
“Lost track of time,” Gordon mumbled as he shrugged off his too tight leather jacket. “You always were a clock watcher.”
Alice looked Gordon up and down and had to stifle a laugh. He was dressed head-to-toe in clothes that someone half his age would barely pull off. His jeans were a little too tight, his shoes were a little too shiny, and his skin was a little too orange; up until their divorce had finalised, he had dressed like any other forty-seven-year-old dad. Lucas was the spitting image of his father. The only differences were the tattoos peeking out under the sleeves of his white shirt and his shaved head.
“New clothes?” Justin asked his father, seeming to have just as much trouble stifling his laughter.
“Tiffany bought them for me,” he replied without a shred of irony.
Alice winced at hearing the name of the younger model she had been traded in for.
“We’ve been waiting forever,” Holly said. “The food has gone cold now.”
“Does she ever stop moaning?” Lucas asked as he shot icy looks at his little sister.
“Are you ever on time?” Holly shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.
Alice clapped her hands to silence the arguing siblings, and the late arrivals took that as an invitation to sit.
“Can we please have one family gathering that doesn’t erupt into chaos?” she pleaded.
Holly and Lucas turned to look at Alice, and they both huffed at the same time. Despite their differences, they were more alike than either of them would ever like to admit.
Gordon didn’t wait for everyone else to tuck in before he helped himself. He piled up his plate with chicken and roast potatoes before smothering it in lukewarm gravy; he didn’t even consider the vegetables.
“This chicken is very dry, Alice.” Gordon coughed through a mouthful of food. “I see your cooking hasn’t improved.”
"Well, why don't you cook it next time then?" Alice fired back as she felt herself go red.
"Have we forgotten the reason why we are all here?" Justin said. "Holly goes away to university tomorrow, so this is the last time we'll be able to have dinner together for a while."
"Good riddance," Lucas mumbled.
“What is it you’re studying again, love?” Gordon asked. “Something to do with science?”
"Biology," she replied without looking up from her food as her fork danced circles in the gravy. "You'd know that if you called once in a while."
The post-divorce tension still lingered in the air like a bad smell. She knew they were one word away from everything exploding into the usual argument that happened whenever they all gathered.
“Do you need anything for university?” Gordon asked once the silence became unbearable. “Like pencils or rubbers?”
“How about £9000 for my university courses?” Holly replied dryly. “Or maybe a new laptop?”
“Good one,” Gordon laughed uneasily.
“I’m not joking. Mum bought me a car.”
“Where’s my car?” Lucas asked, focusing his gaze on his mother.
“You haven’t passed your test, love,” Alice said softly, not wanting to have this same discussion again.
“When do I have time to learn to drive?” Lucas said. “I’m in the army. Why can’t I just have the money?”
Unlike Justin and Holly, who were both pretty sure on their career paths, Lucas wasn’t. He’d joined the army after realising his options were limited. Lucas had always been the most difficult, and since his time in the army, Alice had found it even harder to find any common grounds with him no matter how hard she tried.
“We’ve been through this,” Alice replied, rubbing her temples. “As soon as you’ve passed your test, you can have a car.”
Lucas shot one last look at Holly before turning his attention back to the food. Silence fell again, leaving the fractured family to finish their meal.
Alice was exhausted by the time she had finished her final roast potato, and she could feel a migraine coming on. The thought of bed was heavenly.
A frantic knock at the door pulled her from her daydream. She looked around the table, but they had all retreated into the virtual worlds of their mobile phones. She hadn’t been expecting anyone from what she could remember.
“I’ll get it,” she said as another round of louder knocks followed.
By the time she’d walked down the narrow hallway, the knocks had turned into bangs, and she was almost scared to open the door. She looked through the peep-hole and recognised the knocker as Barry Oakes, a good friend and customer, who often gave her boxes of second-hand books to sell in her bookshop, which she ran with Justin.
She opened the door, and he almost fell face first into Alice.
“Barry?” Alice asked. “What on earth has got-”
“Have you got it?” he interrupted, his blood-shot eyes as big as saucers.
“Got what?” she asked, stepping outside and half-closing the door behind her.
She wrapped her cardigan around herself as a spring breeze whistled through Ashbrook. Barry was usually calm and collected. She had never seen him so angry before. His farmer-style hat hung loosely over his eyes, giving them a menacing quality. She had met Barry seventeen years ago when he first moved to Ashbrook for a quieter life. He had come into her shop to browse through the fishing section and they had hit it off right away.
“I put it in the box by accident,” he cried, his breathing erratic. “I need it.”
“Calm down, Barry,” Alice said soothingly. “What do you need?”
“Alice in Wonderland.”
“Alice in Wonderland?” she repeated, tapping her chin with her forefinger. “Yes. That was one of the books you donated today. I think I sold it. No, in fact, I know I sold it.”
“You did what?” Barry barked, the strong scent of whiskey attacking her nostrils. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Who did you sell it to? You need to tell me.”
She remembered selling the copy of Alice in Wonderland to Trevor Haworth, a regular customer, and her best-friend’s husband, but what was so significant about the book?
“Trevor,” she replied.
Barry looked like a man possessed. He gripped her arms and started to shake her.
“I’m a dead man if I don’t get that book back!”
“Barry,” she cried, trying to get him off of her. “You’re hurting me!”
He let go and looked down at his hands as if they didn’t belong to him before looking back up at Alice.
“I-I have to go.” He ran down her garden path qui
cker than she had ever seen him move.
She furrowed her brows as she watched his running figure grow smaller. She rubbed her arms where he had just gripped her.
“Are you okay?” Justin asked when she stepped back into the warmth of her cottage. “What was that all about? We could hear it from the dining room. Was that Barry?”
“Yes,” Alice nodded, still rubbing her sore arm. “He was shouting about needing back a book he donated this morning.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Alice replied. “But I hope he’s alright. He seemed drunk.”
“That’s strange,” Justin replied. “I thought he didn’t drink.”
“As did I,” Alice said before heading back to the dining room. “I’ll see what’s up with him tomorrow.”
Alice and Justin stepped back into the dining area and took their seats. After everyone had finished their meal, she served a ready-made Victoria sponge for dessert; the rest of dinner was spent in quietness.
“We better be off,” Gordon said, rubbing his swollen stomach. “Lots to do.”
"Yeah," Holly said yawning. "I'm pretty tired, and I have loads to pack tomorrow."
“You haven’t already done it?” Alice asked in a voice so high it was almost inaudible. “Holly! I raised you better than that.”
“Relax,” Holly said, looking at her like she was a Martian. “It'll take five minutes.”