A Treasure to Die For (A Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mystery Book 1)

by Terry Ambrose

  A Treasure to Die For

  A Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mystery

  by Terry Ambrose

  COPYRIGHT

  ASIN: B074MM55VL

  Copyright © 2017 by Terry Ambrose

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Dar Albert.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Once upon a time, in a life he’d rather forget, Terry Ambrose tracked down deadbeats for a living. He also hired big guys with tow trucks to steal cars—but only when negotiations failed. Those years of chasing deadbeats taught him many valuable life lessons such as—always keep your car in the garage.

  Today, Terry likes fast, funny mysteries and cool photography. When he’s not writing, he’s out looking for that next amazing photo to share. Find him at terryambrose.com.

  BOOKS BY TERRY AMBROSE

  McKenna Mysteries

  Photo Finish

  Kauai Temptations

  Big Island Blues

  Mystery of the Lei Palaoa

  Honolulu Hottie

  North Shore Nanny

  A Damsel for Santa

  Maui Magic

  License to Lie Series

  License to Lie

  Con Game

  A Lei Crime Kindle World

  Tough Choices

  Stealing Honolulu

  Anthologies with Stories

  Paradise, Passion, Murder: 10 Tales of Mystery from Hawai‘i

  Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crimes

  Happy Homicides 4: Fall into Crime

  Happy Homicides 5: The Purr-fect Crime

  DEDICATION

  To Cynthia Jo

  May your light burn forever bright.

  Chapter 1

  ALEX

  June 15

  Hey Journal—

  We have a real Indiana Jones staying at the B&B!

  This is my first entry since I got you for my birthday. I didn’t write sooner cause I couldn’t think of how to start. But this is so awesome. A whole group of people looking for sunken treasure are coming in today. The man who got here first said they found a map to where an old ship sank. This is totally cool and I just gotta tell somebody.

  Daddy was happy cause we’re full up for the weekend. I got to check people in cause he was helping the first ones with their bags. I know that sounds kinda boring, but now that I’m ten, I’m supposed to help out more. Guess that means I got my first job. Isn’t that awesome, Journal?

  Should I call you Journal? Maybe Diary? I’ll ask Marquetta cause she’ll know. I kinda get why she gave you to me. This is fun. Daddy’s gonna be on his way up soon to tuck me in, so I gotta go.

  Bye for now,

  Alexandra Atwood

  PS I guess I don’t have to sign every note I put in here, but my first one feels kinda special.

  Chapter 2

  RICK

  A blast of heat hit Rick Atwood in the face as he opened the oven door and eyed Marquetta’s two loaves of Fresh Apple Bread. The heavenly aroma of baking apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg wafted up to greet him. The interior oven light reflected off the browned tops of both loaves. His mouth watered, but he shrugged off the urge to jab a fork into the loaf and taste test a mouthful of heaven in a pan. He placed each loaf on a separate cooling rack, picked up Marquetta’s cake tester—a piece of metal that resembled a long toothpick—and tested each crusty loaf.

  “Okay, no gooey batter. Only a couple of crumbs on this…miniature spear,” he said. “That means they’re done?”

  Marquetta rolled her eyes and snickered. “That’s one of my favorite tools. Don’t be insulting it. Yes, they’re done. Leave them on the cooling racks for ten minutes.”

  Rick nodded. “Got it. I can’t believe you were able to throw this together on such short notice.” He lowered his voice. “These treasure hunters, can you believe it? I hope they’re not all like this Jim Gordon. He’s a real jerk.”

  “Be happy they’re here, Rick. At least we’re full for the weekend.” Marquetta returned to the stove and flipped one of the eggs frying in a heavy skillet. “Besides, last-minute requests are my specialty. It’s comforting knowing all that cooking school Captain Jack paid for is going to good use.”

  Rick looked around the kitchen. The B&B had so many little mysteries of its own. This was much more elegant than most B&Bs, thanks to the remodel Rick’s grandfather did ten years ago. From the six-burner, stainless steel stove to the refrigerator with French doors, everything was top of the line. Even Marquetta’s set of Demeyere pots and pans, which hung from the copper rack above the center island, gleamed in their perfection. The remodel had cost a small fortune—actually, a rather substantial one. As had sending an eighteen-year-old girl to San Francisco so she could become a chef.

  The day Rick and Alex moved to Seaside Cove, he began hearing about his grandfather. Captain Jack. World War II Navy Captain. Ran a tight ship to his dying day. Why he’d sent Marquetta to a top culinary arts school in San Francisco, Rick might never know. One possibility was that the old man was a sucker for a pretty face. The rumors flew about town and Rick marveled at how much—and how little—people really knew about the man who bequeathed him the B&B.

  Rick set down his oven mitts and stood next to Alex. He drained the last of the coffee from his Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast mug and gave his daughter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “What’s up, kiddo?”

  Alex looked up from the bowl of cereal she’d been munching on. “I think it’s awesome, Daddy. Mr. Gordon was nice to me. He even told me he’d let me see the treasure when they brought it up.” She reached for her juice glass. “So what am I supposed to do today? You said now that summer’s here you want me to help out more.”

  “I do. I’m thinking you can work with Marquetta.” Rick winced. He’d forgotten to ask Marquetta if she was willing to take on a helper today. He snuck a peek at the woman who served as cook, maid, and occasional babysitter.

  She was looking directly at him, her head cocked to one side, one eyebrow arched.

  “If that’s okay with you,” he added.

  Marquetta’s face lit up. “I’d love to have a helper.” She turned back to the stove, flipped two more eggs, and wrapped a paper towel around the bacon. When she’d finished, she grabbed her own mug, raised it to her lips, and winked at Alex. “You can start right after you finish your breakfast, Sweetie. We’ll have fun working together. I’ll take you shopping this afternoon. We’re getting low on a few essentials.”

  Alex beamed at her. “Awesome.”

  “Eggs are done. One hard, two over easy. You’re up, Rick.” Marquetta turned off the heat on the burner, slid the eggs and bacon onto a couple of plates with a spatula, and handed them to Rick. “Right hand is for Miss Potok; the left is for Mr. Kalstone. Now, I need to get a grocery list going for this afternoon.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Rick nodded at Marquetta as he backed through the butler door leading to the dining room.

  Five of the eight guests booked for the weekend had checked in on Friday. There were three more arriving later today. The man who organized the weekend, Jim Gordon, had been the first to arrive. Monica Clark-Kelley, Reese Potok, Cadman Richar
dson, and Hayden Kalstone soon followed. Those four were seated together for breakfast and, to Rick’s surprise, Jim Gordon was nowhere to be found. Apparently, the group had been having quite the discussion about their missing leader.

  “Jim’s always been a jerk,” Cadman said. “I learned that when he stole my shoe design.”

  Monica Clark-Kelley picked up her coffee cup and gazed at Cadman over the rim. “Look, we all know how Jim is. But, he did organize this weekend so we can all find the San Manuel together. Maybe he’s trying to make amends.”

  Rick went first to Reese Potok and waited for her to shift to her right. He laid the plate in front of her while she continued scribbling notes on the pad of paper at her side. He glanced down. Impressive. Perfectly formed, smooth letters. She’d clipped a small square of paper on which there were squiggly lines to her notes. The attachment reminded Rick of a small section from a topographic map.

  She acknowledged Rick with a whispered, “Thank you,” before she returned to writing.

  “You’re welcome,” Rick whispered. He walked around the table to deliver Hayden Kalstone’s plate.

  “It is curious,” the man said as Rick put the plate in front of him. The moment Rick pulled his hand away, Hayden repositioned it with the eggs closest and the potatoes farthest away. He also straightened his silverware and placed his napkin on his lap. He barely glanced at Rick as he handed him his mug. “More coffee.”

  “Jeez, Hayden, you could at least say please,” Monica said.

  Hayden cocked his head to one side and gazed at her. “Why? It’s his job.”

  It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out right away that this guy was a “one-star reviewer.” He was the kind who saw no need to compliment good service, but always had a reason to complain. “Of course,” Rick said pleasantly.

  Monica shook her head ever so slightly and glanced at Reese, who shrugged. “That’s Hayden, Monica. He’s our very own Mr. Spock.” She chuckled as she looked up at Rick. “I’d appreciate another cup, too. Please?”

  “My pleasure.”

  Rick acknowledged Reese with a wink. It surprised him when she glanced away and immediately let her gaze flick back to his. She had a beautiful smile. An attractive young woman. He returned to the kitchen and found Alex finishing up the last of her cereal.

  “Marquetta, who’s drinking what?” Rick asked as he held up both carafes.

  “Mr. Kalstone has decaf, the others have leaded. Mr. Kalstone is quite particular, Rick. When you pour, be sure to do it well away from him. He doesn’t want a stray drop to stain his clothes.”

  Rick eyed Marquetta for a second. When he got no response he asked, “Are you serious?”

  She nodded and whispered to him. “He’s a strange duck.”

  Upon returning to the dining room, Rick poured the decaf first, then started refilling the others’ cups. When he got to Monica, he noticed another scrap of paper like the one Reese had. When she looked up to thank him, Rick said, “You have one, too.”

  She picked up the three-inch by three-inch square of paper. “It’s part of a treasure map. It’s why we’re all here. Except for Cadman, of course. He’d forget his head if it wasn’t attached, so he has no idea why he’s here.”

  “I have Delayed Memory Syndrome,” Cadman said as he feigned indignation, then chuckled.

  A series of snickers made their way round the table.

  Rick glanced at the map section and the envelope beneath it. It was similar to those used for wedding or party invitations and the address was familiar, but not overly so. Where had he seen it? “You’ve come prepared,” he said.

  Hayden sat perfectly erect in his chair and spoke in a firm voice. “Our instructions were quite explicit, Monica. We should not discuss this with outsiders.”

  “Oh, pooh. Pooh on Jim Gordon’s instructions. What’s Rick going to do, arrange an expedition in the next ten minutes? I don’t think so. Besides, there are three more coming today and they’ve all got a part of the map, too.” She glanced up at Rick. “As you can tell, Hayden is a rather by-the-book kind of guy. The rest of us are more laid back.”

  Reese giggled. “Please, ignore Hayden. We all do.”

  “No worries,” Rick said as he gazed across the table at her. “We have a lot of treasure seekers around here, but I’ve never heard of the San Manuel.”

  “Unlike most of the amateurs, we have a reliable map.” Reese winked at him. “We also have lots of enthusiasm.”

  “Anyway, that’s my contribution to this weekend,” Monica said as she laid down the little square of paper.

  “Well, good luck with it. How exciting.” Rick scanned the faces around the table. “Can I get anyone anything else?”

  Heads shook, then Cadman leaned back in his chair. “I’m stumped as to why Jim would include us in this venture. Unfortunately, he has the ‘X marks the spot’ part of the map, so I guess we’re stuck with him. Where the devil is he, anyway?”

  Chapter 3

  RICK

  By 8:30, the guests were done with breakfast and the dining room was empty. Marquetta and Alex were finishing the last of the cleanup, so Rick went in search of Jim Gordon. He found him in one of the Adirondack chairs on the patio gazing beyond the old Douglas fir trees to the rocky shore and ocean. In the distance, the Seaside Cove lighthouse still stood. Though it hadn’t been active for many years, the structure still drew attention from painters, photographers, and sightseers.

  When Rick approached, Gordon acknowledged him with a grunt and continued sipping his coffee.

  “Mr. Gordon, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. Why not? Everybody wants a piece of me today. That’s why I skipped breakfast.” He rolled his eyes and huffed while he continued to watch the distant waves.

  “Yes, I’m sorry you missed the apple bread Marquetta made. The others ate all of it. She can’t make more until after we get to the store later today.”

  “What of it?”

  “Nothing, really. Since you put in the special request, I thought you should know.”

  Gordon fixed an icy stare on Rick. “I had other things on my mind.”

  Why was he being such a jerk? Rick kept his voice level. “Right. Well, anyway, if you don’t mind my asking, why did you invite all your friends if you didn’t want this weekend to happen?”

  “First off, these people aren’t my friends,” he snapped. “Second, I didn’t invite them. I’m almost positive it’s Cadman. He’s been screwing with me since he quit the business. And, third, speaking of business, it’s none of yours.” Gordon stood and handed Rick his empty mug. “Why don’t you run along and make sure everything is set up for later today. Apparently, I’ve got more ‘friends’ coming in and I intend to find out who arranged this whole fiasco. ”

  “Cadman seems like a decent guy. You could ask him what he knows.” Rick snapped. He winced and quickly apologized. “That was uncalled for. You’re right, it’s none of my business.”

  Gordon smiled for the first time. “It’s okay. They tell me I have a way of bringing out the worst in people. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, Cadman would deny he set this up. When I do find out who’s behind it, I’m going to kill them.” He paused and laughed. “That was a joke. Anyway, I found the San Manuel all on my own and I don’t intend to share that treasure with any of these slackers. And that includes my ex-business partner.”

  Rick watched as Gordon followed the pathway to the house. He opened the French door, started to enter, but stepped aside to let Monica out. She moved closer and rubbed his shoulder with her hand, which left Rick wondering how friendly these two were. This looked like a lot more than something platonic. The mood ended a second later when Gordon brushed off her hand and pushed by her. He went inside, left the door standing open, and Monica by herself. She turned, saw Rick, and quickly averted her gaze. She then did an abrupt about-face and ducked through the open door. Rick fingered his earlobe and sighed as he thought about what he’d heard this morning.


  The conversation with Gordon had reminded Rick where he’d seen the return address on Monica’s envelope. It was Jim Gordon’s. At least, it was the address on his registration. So if he had issued the invitations, why was he denying his role as the event organizer? And now this thing with Monica. Strange man. Even though he’d cracked and shown he did have feelings, the way he acted made it nearly impossible for Rick to like him.

  Rick took a last look at the waves crashing against the rock-lined shore. Further out, little bands of white dotted the undulating waves. And there, at the westernmost tip of the bay, stood the lighthouse. Rick breathed deeply, took in the salty air, and shook off Gordon’s foul-mood contagion. Gordon’s mug in hand, he walked into the kitchen where he found Marquetta finishing her grocery list.

  She smiled at him and whispered, “He’s a very insulting man, isn’t he?”

  Rick rinsed the mug, set it in the sink, and kept his voice low as he spoke. “He has a way of making you feel about this tall.” He raised his hand with his thumb and index finger spread about two inches apart. “But he did smile when I snapped at him. By the way, why are we whispering?”

  They laughed together and Marquetta shrugged. “No idea. We’ve got another problem. I have to prepare the appetizers for this afternoon’s welcome session, but one of the guests spilled orange juice on the area rug in the dining room.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. We just had that cleaned.”

  “I took a look, and it’s not too bad. If I get on it right away, I can take care of it before I start the food prep. We’ve got most of what we need, so if you could do the grocery shopping with Alex, it would save me a huge amount of time.”

  “Sure, no problem. Actually, she wanted to go for ice cream today. I should be working on the books, but I have a couple of hours. We’ll get the groceries first, then pay a visit to Scoops & Scones on the way back. Will that work?”