by Thea Cambert
Murder Steals the Show
Rooftop Garden Cozy Mysteries, Book 7
Thea Cambert
Summer Prescott Books Publishing
Copyright 2020 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
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
Author’s Note
Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing
Chapter 1
“Now don’t worry about a thing. Everything will be fine.”
Alice Maguire’s brother, Ben, nervously wiped his glasses with the corner of his shirt, looking worriedly at his pregnant wife, Franny.
“Honey, I’m not worried. I know everything will be fine. I’m only six months along,” she said in a soothing voice. “Everything’s going smoothly, and I’m not going into labor for months yet.”
“I know,” Ben said with a little gulp. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “It’s just that I hate to be away while you’re . . . in this condition.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry. I won’t be alone. Alice, Owen, and I are even having a slumber party at the lake tonight!” Franny leaned against the building façade that lined one end of the rooftop garden where they all stood.
Ben gasped and pulled her away. “Don’t stand there,” he said. “What if the bricks gave way suddenly? You’d be down on Main Street, flat as a pancake, in seconds!”
Franny took a seat in her usual Adirondack chair in the garden, right between Alice and Owen.
“Don’t worry, Ben,” said Alice. “We’ll take good care of Franny.”
“That’s right,” said Owen. “We’ll watch over her like two mother hens.”
This seemed to appease Ben because he put his glasses back on and nodded solemnly, then went inside to gather his things.
“How are we going to deal with him for another three months?” Alice asked with a laugh, leaning back in her chair and taking a sip from her steaming mug of coffee. “Ah, Franny, that’s good coffee,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“It goes perfectly with my new breakfast pastry,” said Owen, opening a box from his bakery, Sourdough, and setting it on the little café table. “Cream cheese puffs!”
Alice reached into the box and lifted out one of the puffs, which were made of a crisp, flaky pastry. She took a bite and closed her eyes, savoring the sweet cream cheese filling. “Owen, you’ve outdone yourself. And you’re the best, so that’s saying something!”
Owen smiled modestly. “What can I say? It’s true.”
The three friends had been living and working next door to each other for seven years now. Their building—one of the beautiful historic landmarks on Main Street in Blue Valley, Tennessee, was divided into three sections. Franny’s coffee shop, Joe’s, was on one end. Owen’s bakery, Sourdough, was on the other. And Alice’s bookshop, The Paper Owl, was right in the middle. Years ago, when Alice had moved into the tiny apartment above her bookshop, she’d walked out of the french doors that exited her living room, looked over the empty rooftop, and visualized a lush garden, full of climbing vines, huge pots of flowers, and plenty of the all-important twinkle lights that Alice strung wherever she went.
Once Owen and Franny moved into the apartments above their own shops, they got excited about the rooftop space, too, and between the three of them, through the years, they’d created an oasis right in the middle of Main Street—or rather, right above the middle of Main Street. The rooftop garden had quickly become the three friends’ favorite place to meet for early morning coffee and evening glasses of wine at the end of the workday.
Their garden idea had caught on. When other shop owners up and down Main Street had seen what Alice, Owen, and Franny had done to their building, they’d been inspired to follow suit, so that now, little rooftop havens dotted the buildings up and down the street. Some merchants who lived over their businesses created their own private gardens. Some actually used the space to expand their businesses. For example, the Smiling Hound—Blue Valley’s favorite pub—had added a rooftop garden that diners loved to linger in while they watched the sunset, enjoying juicy burgers and onion rings and the cool breezes blowing down from the Smoky Mountains that surrounded the little town.
Back in the fall, Franny and Alice’s brother, Ben, had even gotten married in their garden. They hadn’t originally planned it that way, but in the end, they couldn’t have asked for a more magical place to have their special day.
Ben was the captain of the small Blue Valley police force. He was leaving town for one night, along with Alice’s boyfriend of a year and a half, Detective Luke Evans. The two of them were answering a call for help from the tiny village of Runesville, which lay even farther into the mountains than Blue Valley. That was saying a lot, since Blue Valley itself was a good distance off the beaten path. It seemed that Runesville had lately experienced a rash of robberies, but without a dedicated police force, the town constable had sought the help of the nearest PD.
Ben considered the Runesville constable a good friend and was always glad to lend a hand whenever he needed one. But Franny’s pregnancy had thrown him into a whirlwind of paranoia and worry. Franny couldn’t hardly walk down Main Street without Ben worrying she might take a fall or be hit by a passing bicycle.
“Anyone home?” Luke Evans popped his head out of Alice’s apartment, and Alice felt her heart skip happily.
“Come on out,” Alice said, smiling at Luke, who came over and sat in one of the chairs.
Alice’s cat, Poppy, immediately jumped into his lap, purring loudly and rubbing her whiskered cheek against his. Luke was used to this by now. Poppy was very particular about who she befriended, and Luke was aware of the honor of being chosen by the little feline. Franny poured Luke a cup of coffee.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a long sip while scratching Poppy behind the ears with his free hand. “Whew. I needed that.”
“Up late last night?” asked Alice.
“Yep,” said Luke, yawning.
“Why? Was Finn having one of his howling dreams again?”
Luke’s little black and white border collie, Finn, had been howling in his sleep lately—which was, frankly, adorable, but also made it hard for Luke to sleep.
“No, it was your brother,” said Luke with a laugh. “He called last night worried about leaving Franny.”
“Oh my gosh! I had no idea!” said Franny, who must’ve been sound asleep when the restless Ben had called Luke to vent.
Some years ago, Ben had bought a small house on Blue Lake. When Luke had moved to town, he’d purchased the cabin just around the water’s edge from Ben. Then, when Ben and Franny got married, they found they were unable to choose between Franny’s cozy little apartment above the coffee shop on Main Street, and Ben’s charming house on the lake. So, they ch
ose not to choose and spent time in both locations. Since Blue Lake was no more than a ten-minute bike ride from Main Street, they were always close by, whether on the lake or above the coffee shop.
Tonight, Alice, Owen, and Franny looked forward to hanging out at Ben and Franny’s lake house, where they’d probably pop popcorn, watch movies, and stay up way too late.
“Now remember, don’t worry about a thing,” Ben said once more, bustling out of his and Franny’s apartment, his Blue Valley PD duffle bag slung over his shoulder, his badge glinting in the spring sunshine. “We’ll be back tomorrow evening—hopefully in time for the jousting at the faire. You call me if you need anything at all. Or, if you don’t need anything, call me anyway.” He bent down and kissed Franny.
“I will,” Franny assured him. “You two be careful.”
Luke set down his coffee cup and took Alice’s hand. “Take good care of Finn for me,” he said.
“I will,” said Alice. “He and Poppy get to come to our slumber party tonight.”
Luke laughed. “He’ll love that.” He kissed her hand. “See you tomorrow?” he said quietly, grinning at her.
“I’ll be here,” Alice said, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I can’t wait to go to the faire. It’s going to be amazing this year,” said Ben. “Too bad Luke and I have to miss part of opening day.”
The Nottingham Medieval Faire was Ben’s favorite annual Blue Valley event. It came to town every spring, but this year, it was under new management, and the medieval mood would be decidedly more whimsical. Instead of just kings and knights, there would be fairies and goblins, trolls and wizards. Rumor had it there might even be a unicorn or two.
“Yes, it will be amazing, Benjamin,” Owen said sagely. “Because Alice and I will be king and queen for the day!”
One of the new features of the Nottingham Faire was the selection of two lucky locals to serve as king and queen for the day—and because Alice had helped coordinate the event for years, she’d been chosen to act as queen. Owen, the year before, had played Robin Hood, and through a crazy twist of events, had been accused of murder. Alice suspected this was at least part of the reason he was being honored as king for a day—as recompense for the year before. Alice privately rejoiced that performing the Maypole dance was not on their list of duties this year. She had a long and colorful history with the Maypole dance, and she despised it.
“Don’t tell Ben this,” said Franny, standing and stretching after Ben and Luke had gone, “but, I don’t even care about the faire. I just want those roasted turkey legs they always sell. And this year, I’m eating for two.” She gave her belly a gentle pat.
Alice laughed and walked to the façade of the building to see if she could catch a glimpse of Ben and Luke leaving. “Hey. What’s going on down there?” she asked, waving Franny and Owen over.
“An armored van,” said Owen. “How exciting! Wonder what’s inside.”
“There’s a police car right behind it,” said Franny. “Look—they’re stopping at the Heritage Museum!”
“There’s Ethel,” added Alice. “She looks like a busy little bee from up here.”
Ethel Primrose was the keeper of local history. She was also the manager and curator for the Blue Valley Heritage Museum, half a block away—and Ethel took her work very seriously. As the three curious friends looked on, she hurried from the armored van to the police car and back again, then flitted between the van driver, who’d just lumbered out of his seat, and Officer Dewey, who’d just stepped out of his cruiser.
“It’s not every day we see an armored van on Main Street in Blue Valley,” said Owen, looking at Alice and Franny.
“We still have half an hour before we need to open up shop downstairs,” said Alice, reading Owen’s thoughts.
“I say we amble over and see what’s going on,” said Owen.
“Whatever it is,” said Alice, watching as Officer Dewey looked nervously up and down the street, hand resting on his belt, “Dewey seems to be breaking a sweat. Let’s go.”
Chapter 2
“May I present the fabled Scarlett Lady,” Ethel Primrose said, a little breathlessly. She turned a small key in the locked box the van driver had set on the counter inside the museum, and carefully opened the lid to reveal a huge, gleaming diamond set in the middle of an elaborate arrangement of tiny red stones, cushioned on a luxurious bed of deep blue velvet.
“Whoa,” Owen said under his breath.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Alice, who didn’t know why she was whispering. “I mean, I’ve seen pictures of famous jewels. Like the Hope Diamond.”
“The Hope Diamond is 45.52 carats,” said Ethel, still looking at the necklace in the box. “The white diamond at the center of this piece comes in at a mere twenty-three. But, when you think that the average engagement ring is one or two carats, you gain some perspective about how large this glorious stone really is.”
“Is it called the Scarlet Lady because of all the red stones around it?” asked Franny.
“Yes,” said Ethel. “Actually, the necklace as a whole is called the Scarlett Lady. The large diamond in the middle is known around Tennessee as the Grand Ole Gal.” Ethel looked from one face to another. “You all know the legend of the Grand Ole Gal, I trust?” There was a pause. “Not even you, Alice?”
Alice, who was normally a fount of information such as this, shook her head apologetically.
“The Grand Ole Gal,” Ethel said, “is a Tennessee legend. It is the nickname of a German immigrant, Elizabeth Eppinger Trantham, who lived in the seventeen and eighteen hundreds in Maury County, about three hundred miles west of here.”
“What’s so grand about that?” Owen said with a snort, which earned him a stern look from Ethel and an elbow in the ribs from Alice.
“The woman was said to have lived somewhere between a hundred thirty-two and a hundred fifty-four years!” said Ethel. “She supposedly had her twelfth child at age sixty-five! How’s that for grand?”
“Well, it certainly covers the ‘ole’ part,” said Owen. He received another swift elbow from Alice.
“Where is miss, um, Elizabeth buried?” asked Alice, who loved nothing more than history and legend, and was already imagining a pilgrimage to learn more about the Grand Ole Gal.
“She’s buried in an unmarked grave,” said Ethel. “Anyway, the glorious white diamond in the middle has come, through the years, to be named for her. But the history of this necklace actually goes back much, much further.” Ethel paused for dramatic effect. “To the sixteenth century, when Queen Isabella of Spain donated it to the explorer, Hernando de Soto—the first European explorer to set foot in our great state. He claimed the land for Spain, of course, and that’s a whole other story, but that is why this necklace is connected to the history of Tennessee.”
“Wow,” said Alice. “Isn’t it amazing that it’s still intact? Seems like it would’ve been broken up and sold off through the centuries, doesn’t it?”
“It’s too exquisite a piece,” said Ethel. “No one wanted to damage it. But, it’s been lost, passed around, gifted, stolen . . . It was more than a hundred years from the time Spanish explorers set foot in Tennessee until the time Europeans actually started settling here. The Scarlett Lady was finally recovered in the 1800s and has been owned by several wealthy families—one of whom finally donated it to the National Museum of Natural History, which generously allows it to tour the state of Tennessee on occasion. It’s a huge honor that it will spend this month right here in Blue Valley before making its way west.” Ethel gave a small, proud smile. “I know someone at the museum in Washington,” she added, with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
“Thanks for letting us see it,” said Alice. “It’s amazing.”
“Gorgeous,” agreed Owen.
“We’d better get to work,” added Franny.
“Come back by sometime when the museum is open,” Ethel called after them as they walked to the door. “And tell your friend
s and family.”
When they emerged onto a still-quiet Main Street, Alice noticed Damon Huxley standing on the opposite side, leaning against a lamppost. He seemed to be watching the museum, but when he saw Alice, Owen, and Franny, he quickly pulled out his cell phone and focused on its screen.
Alice liked almost everyone she met. But, she didn’t care for Damon Huxley. She seemed to be the only person in Blue Valley who hadn’t taken to him when he blew into town and bought a huge house up on one of the mountains that surrounded the valley. Damon was popular almost instantly—probably a result of his good looks, charm, or wealth. Or maybe all three. But there was something about him Alice couldn’t put her finger on. Something she didn’t like. Maybe she wasn’t nuts about the way Damon threw money around—even though that, in itself, wasn’t the problem, and she was glad he was spending his dollars in Blue Valley.
It might’ve been the fact that Damon had made a few negative remarks about Mayor Abercrombie—and had even mentioned that he might run for mayor himself come November. It seemed presumptuous, Alice thought, to act like he knew the town and was prepared to run it after only living there for a few months.
Or, maybe it was the fact that Damon never came into the bookstore, not even for a magazine or newspaper. Alice hoped that wasn’t the reason she didn’t like the guy—that she was jealous that he was a regular at Joe’s and even bought loaves of bread from Sourdough. But what kind of a person didn’t buy books?
Alice kept all of these negative thoughts to herself and always greeted Damon with a smile when she happened to see him.
She did wonder, however, what he was doing out on Main Street so early that morning, and whether he was truly watching the museum or just happened to be standing across the street.