Chaos on Camera

by Louise Lynn

  I eyed the tier of cakes clenched in my mom’s hands, complete with two bowls of icing at both sides.

  “Not too many,” Mom replied, setting the tier onto my wooden coffee table. “Only, oh … fifty-two and a half.”

  “Only? Who are you baking for—an army?” I grinned, closing my laptop. I unraveled Buttercup from my lap and pulled off my blankets. “Of course I’ll help you, Mom.”

  The party was in less than an hour; Mom needed all the help she could get. Not to mention, me doing something at home gave my mom little opportunity to fuss over me.

  “I have everything ready downstairs,” she said. “Cakes and scones and tea. It’s like a mini Maritime down there, except I don’t have that darling incense burner I got you for your birthday. Mind the icing, it’s a little runny. Do you think it smells okay?”

  Mom extended the bowl of pink butter icing and stared at me. When I leaned off the sofa to smell the contents, she pushed the bowl forward and into my nose.

  “You did that on purpose.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand, shooting her a mock glare.

  “I figured that would put a smile back on your face,” she said, then rolling up her sleeves, she added, “Now, I’d like them to be piped the way we usually do. You know, with the fancy petals and stuff. But don’t pipe over the little boots. I think Juno will really appreciate this, and Adam, after everything the Fairgrieves have gone through.”

  Of course.

  I could just imagine how Adam had been feeling. Being accused of murder wasn’t exactly a nice feeling. Then to be arrested?

  “Do you have beers?” I asked, and my mom raised her eyebrows. “Not for me,” I added hastily. I could still taste the bourbon on my tongue. “I think Adam could do with one.”

  “I … I don’t, actually. I can ask Ivy to pick some up on her way home. She’s on another date with Wyatt, you know.”

  “Oh, I do know. Ivy kept telling me all day yesterday about it.” My blankets pooled on the floor, as I stretched up from the sofa. Buttercup trotted into my kitchen and I followed suit to prepare her some breakfast. “I just hope he’s sensible with her. You know how Ivy can be sometimes.”

  “Like a darn puppy stepping onto snow for the first time. Young and passionate” Mom piped in, and I nodded.

  “I’m just—”

  “Overprotective of her? A little clingy? Ivy’s nearly twenty-seven years old, Olive. You need to let her go.”

  I paused, and Buttercup’s food continued to dribble into her bowl. I shook my hand and pulled my arm back. “Did we just swap roles? You’re the one supposed to be worried about her.”

  “I trust her,” Mom replied, and I set Buttercup’s chunky chicken feast onto the kitchen floor. “Do you?”

  I did trust my little sister. I trusted her to have Wyatt dancing naked on the top of the White House after a night of too many glasses of wine. That was if my sister’s previous “spontaneous” dates were anything to go by.

  “I have some beers in my fridge. And no, Mom. I bought them for Dean.”

  He was supposed to visit me last night after he finished work, but he’d been held up with something at the office.

  “Dean, huh?” I turned to see my mom wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Will he be at the party?”

  I felt a rush heat my cheeks. “He’s at work. Now, fifty-two cupcakes?” I glanced at the tier, where my mom had been placing the cupcakes individually on my coffee table. Easier for us to frost that way since I didn’t have a kitchen table and limited counter space. “We can get them done in thirty minutes. Let’s do this, Mom. Hurry!”

  “Now I’m really beginning to think we switched roles, darling.”

  My mom’s apartment buzzed with excitement. When Ivy had returned from her second date—grinning from ear to ear—she had brought home a handful of pink congratulations balloons. This baby shower wasn’t Juno’s actual baby shower. Her real one would no doubt have the entire town in attendance and all her work and old school friends. But this one, which my mom had arranged, was just something between our families.

  Mom’s kitchen table had been dressed in a sky-blue, lace cloth and plates of food and snacks were set out. The display sort of reminded me of when Ivy and I were children and she’d put out “snack food”, as we’d so innocently called it back then. We used to have snack food for dinner on a Sunday and to us children, it was the best meal of the week. To my mom, it was a much-deserved break from doing dinner that night.

  Juno and my mom sat at the dinner table, enjoying one of the cupcakes and laughing at whatever cute nonsense poured out of Juno’s mouth. She was so much like my sister. Across from them sat Carole, Juno’s mother, who looked exactly like Juno, only older—deep sapphire eyes, delicate features, and platinum blonde hair. Carole had styled hers in a bun and loose curls, where Juno wore hers long and flat.

  Facing the bay window, Adam’s bulky figure eclipsed the sun, and his much smaller father whispered into his ear. Adam turned, glanced at Juno, and a smile gently lit up his usually stern features.

  Gregor Fairgrieve was a man of few words, which coincided with his profession as a chef at Giani’s Trattoria in town. In all my life, I think all he ever said to me was good day and good evening.

  Nothing compared to Tom, the baby’s father, who stood beside them. He was constantly talking about video games this and anime that—a word I had no idea the meaning of. Being the same age as Juno, twenty-six, Tom sometimes acted more like a teenage boy than a grown man. But I suspected parenthood would change him.

  Holding the six pack of beer in my hands, I approached the window.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I said, and they turned around to face me. “I figured you could all do with something strong.”

  Adam snorted and crossed his arms. “Well, I gotta hand it to you, Olive.”

  I opened my mouth to protest the nickname—he’d clearly been listening to my sister too much—but he held up a hand, preempting me. Tom beamed at me the entire time, but Gregor looked rather nervous beside them. Had I interrupted something? A joke? A secret?

  My inner Poirot itched to know.

  “You really are quite the Mrs. Marple,” Adam finished soberly, but then he grinned.

  I shoved the beers into his chest. “I made a promise,” I said, fighting the blush attempting to claim my cheeks.

  “And I have a newfound respect for you, as does Gina. We’d like to invite you to our wedding in April. If you don’t still dislike me.”

  Dislike Adam?

  It wasn’t that.

  I’d just never really known the man, except from what he’d been like in high school.

  I swallowed and nodded. “I would love to. And congratulations, by the way, on the wedding. Gina’s one heck of a lady.”

  Now, the men burst into laughter and cracked open a beer.

  Adam smiled, and pride shone within his brown eyes. “She’s a hard nut to crack, that’s for sure. Few people take her eye, but she said you’ve got a lot of guts to take on an ex-stunt woman bodybuilder murderer. She likes you.”

  I winced at the memory of Sandra. The bruises on my neck were still healing, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for a man’s innocence. A man who’d never really saw me until now. Perhaps things would begin to change.

  “Gina’s good in my books, and yes. You’re not too bad either,” I grinned at Adam, then I turned to Tom. “Congratulations! I bet you can’t wait to see her.”

  “She’s over there,” Tom said, jutting his jaw toward the table; signaling that he meant Juno. Then he seemed to realize. “Oh. Right. The baby. Yes, I am.”

  “God help my baby niece or nephew,” Adam said, taking a swig of his beer.

  “Olivia!”

  I whipped around to see Juno waving frantically at me. Before she burst over the table, I said, “I had better go.”

  “Soon I’m gonna have to be helping her out of chairs,” Adam grumbled under his breath.

  The beauty of
pregnancy.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked Juno, pulling out a chair beside her.

  “Yes. But have you seen what they forced me to wear?” Juno stuck out her chest and pulled down the bottom of her sweater. It was pink with a huge “pregosaurus” dinosaur right in the middle.

  “It’s, err, wonderful,” I said, squeezing her arm gently. The material was fluffier than I expected. “Did you try one of the cupcakes?”

  As soon as I finished that sentence, Juno was already stuffing her face with a second one.

  “What cupcakes?” she grinned, taking another quick bite.

  Ducking between us, Ivy suddenly appeared. “That’s her fourth one, the greedy crumpet. Talk about cravings!”

  “Ivy!”

  Juno pushed up from the table and wrapped her best friend in a tight hug. Mom appeared, too, holding a tray of drinks. My heart skipped a beat. I wished that Dean had been there, too, but I quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

  Today was about Juno and her baby.

  As I reached to pull out a chair for Ivy, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, traipsing into the foyer with my slippers still on.

  I pulled open the door, Buttercup twining around my ankles, and I gasped.

  What I didn’t expect to see was Michael on the doorstep, still dressed in his familiar pair of khaki shorts, his dimpled cheeks red from the cold.

  “Michael. What … How?”

  “Yeah, it took me a while to find you, Olivia. But I … I wanted to say goodbye and also thank you. While I still could.”

  I nodded and yanked open the door. “Will you come inside?”

  “I would, but I’m not staying long. A new production gig in Seattle. We start shooting in a few weeks and I need to get everything ready.”

  “A new production sounds amazing,” I said, and my cheeks ached from smiling. “But you don’t need to thank me.”

  His sea-blue eyes found me, unblinking. “Yes, I do. You saved my life back there and you exposed Sandra for what she really was. And your neck …” He reached out and gently touched my skin where the faint handprints glared back at him. “That animal!”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I gently pulled away his hand and squeezed. “I’m just glad you’re okay! What’s brought you here?”

  After a beat, Michael extended me a white note.

  A check? For ten thousand dollars?

  My mouth dropped. “Michael, I don’t know what to say—”

  “Just use it. It’s for your teashop. I want you to buy that fancy oven you talked about.”

  I found myself nodding, staring at the check with watery eyes. “You didn’t have to, but … I’m so grateful.”

  “A cutie like you deserves that and more,” Michael said, a sheepish grin on his pressed lips.

  The slamming of a car door roused our attention. Dean had stepped out of his undercover police car and was making his way through the gate.

  Michael stepped off the porch and said, “You have my details. Keep in touch. You’ll always have a friend in New Zealand, Miss Darrow. Remember that. You and that quirky sister of yours.”

  “Or in this case, Seattle,” I said, winking at him. “Michael … thank you.”

  He nodded and turned on his heel. Pausing at the gate, he and Dean exchanged a quick word and shook hands, before Michael disappeared.

  I folded my arms and grinned. “Detective Harper. I was beginning to think you had stood me up.”

  Dean blushed at the remark then smiled, his suit coat billowing in the sharp breeze. “I heard there was cake. And a teashop owner who was waiting on me to finalize a divorce.”

  He held up a pile of documents, suggesting that his divorce had finally been signed. Against my best efforts, my heart swelled with joy.

  “Well in that case,” I said, pulling open the doors, “come inside. You’d better hurry, though. The cupcakes are running out fast.”

  “The cupcakes or your patience?”

  “A bit of both,” I replied, winking at him as we stepped back into my house. “Oh and by the way, in answer to your question, I plan on staying in San Bas forever.”

  THE END

  Coming soon!

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  Thank you so much for reading our Maritime Teashop cozy mystery! We had such an amazing time writing this book and we really hope you enjoyed Chaos on Camera. If you did, please leave a review. No matter how short or long, we appreciate any sort of feedback. Being independent authors means this is our livelihood, and every review really makes a huge difference. Reviews are the best way to support us, so we can continue doing what we love, which is bringing you, the readers, more mysteries in San Bastion Bay.

  Thank you for spending time in San Bas and we hope to see you soon!

  Read the rest of the Maritime Teashop Series:

  There has been a murder in San Bastion Bay and Olivia Darrow just might be next. Not the best birthday present she could have asked for.

  Now a potential suspect in the murder investigation, Olivia must find out who poisoned her least favorite customer and stop the killer from striking again. Unfortunately, her list of suspects includes nearly the entire town and a hooded figure seems determined to ensure the culprit remains hidden. In a race against the clock, will Olivia uncover the truth before it’s too late? Or has she been framed to take the fall?

  Louise Lynn

  Louise Lynn lives in the a small town in California, with a host of cats, and loves all things mystery related.

  Like her Facebook page:

  https://www.facebook.com/Louise-Lynn-1508559085907734

  For more check out:

  louiselynnauthor@gmail.com

  Nora Winters

  Nora Winters is an author of cozy mysteries. She lives in Scotland with a white wolf and a black cat.

  Check out Nora on Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/nora.winters

  For more check out:

  norawintersauthor@gmail.com

  Copyright © 2017 by Louise Lynn and Nora Winters

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and events are all products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.