by Maisy Marple
The memory of what had happened came rushing back to me. How, Ted had barged through the door at the last minute, and shot Matthew in the shoulder, forcing him to fall forward and fire a bullet into my leg. He’d lost control of the gun and I’d fallen backward. The last thing I remembered was Ted kicking the gun out of Matthew’s reach and putting handcuffs on him before he grabbed Tiffany and held her back. Then I’d lost consciousness.
“You were late,” I said.
Ted put his head down and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I know, Connie. I was. I should have been there sooner.”
“I shouldn’t have gone in there without you,” I smiled. “That was pretty dumb, huh?”
“That’s one way to describe it,” my mother rolled her eyes. “The good Lord was on our side tonight, thank God.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to both of them. “I never should have rushed in after them.”
“Well, thankfully things worked out the way they did,” my mother smiled. “I’m just happy to have everyone here safe and sound.”
We heard a commotion in the hallway. Ted instantly became rigid and at the ready.
“Is she in here!” A familiar voice shouted.
“Miss, you can’t go in there,” one of the nurses was telling her.
“The heck I can’t!”
“Miss, I’m warning you.”
“Thank you for your warning,” Reba said, as she became visible in the doorway. “I’m sure I’ll be fine!”
She came into the room, slightly out of breath, flipping her hair back behind her shoulders.
Rushing over to the bed, she said, “For crying out loud, Connie. Could you just make something easy for once?”
I smiled. There was nothing I could say to that. I felt the same way about myself most days.
“Not to make light of the situation, but if you’d have died, I’d be stuck working you know where for the rest of my life.”
I laughed, and then stopped as a jolt of pain shot down my leg.
“That’s new,” I said. I looked up at Ted and asked, “Is that going to hurt forever?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know, never been shot before.”
“Well, you’re a lot of help.”
“I try,” He winked.
“Well, listen,” Reba interrupted. She pulled a small stuffed Teddy bear out from behind her back. “I’m going to give you this now, because I don’t know how much longer Nurse Ratched is going to let me stay in here.”
“How sweet,” I said, taking the bear and nuzzling my nose into. It had looked really soft. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
“It was the best I could do on short notice,” Reba shrugged. “Next time, let me know when you’re going to go get yourself shot, okay?”
“Will do,” I gave a faint thumbs up.
My mother stared at me with annoyed eyes.
I swallowed hard. “Of course, this is hopefully going to be the last time anything like this ever happens again.”
“Yeah right,” Reba rolled her eyes. “Until next month.”
“Boy, I hope not,” I said.
“Me too,” my mother agreed.
“Me three,” Ted chuckled.
“Oh, brother,” Reba sighed. “I’ll see you when you get out of this place, okay,” she said, resting her hand on my foot through the blankets. “Call me up when you’re ready to get to work on that coffee shop you’re always talking about.” She winked and then tensed her body up and crouched down. “Now, all I have to do is get past that nasty woman without being seen and my mission will be complete.”
At that moment, Nurse Ratched, who was actually called Nurse Bonnie, came into the room.
“What’s that you say about getting past that nasty woman?”
For the first time ever I saw Reba blush and become speechless.
She made a weird face, with wide eyes and a half smile, before giving a very awkward wave and holding her hand in the shape of a phone to her ears and mouthing the words call me, before she shimmied along the back wall of the room and out into the hallway.
“That one a friend of yours?” the nurse asked.
“Yup,” I nodded.
“Takes all kinds, I guess,” she smiled.
We all laughed.
25
It was about two weeks after my short but necessary visit to the hospital and I was back to work, planning out my true vision for Connie’s Cafe.
I thought it fitting that the first order to arrive were the tables and chairs for the deck. I had a variety of them, all rod iron and with very elaborate designs.
Some of the tables had room for as many as eight people to sit and drink coffee and enjoy the view. Others were smaller, and more intimate, for couples who wanted to go out but be left alone in their own little bubbles of love.
Reba and Ted helped get them set up on the deck, while my mother checked over the invoices to make sure I wasn’t getting ripped off.
I was on a pair of crutches, directing Ted and Reba as they diligently set to work putting the ten tables and thirty six chairs in place.
When they were finished, we ordered pizza and mom drove home to get a few bottles of chilled wine. She came back with bottles of moscato, pinot Grigio, and a Beaujolais for Ted, who refused to drink white wine with pizza.
“I think these will do the trick,” she smiled as she came onto the deck. “Ted and Reba, could you run and get the glasses from my car? It’s parked out front. And I think I saw the pizza delivery boy on his way too.”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Cafe,” Ted stood.
“Do I have to?” Reba sulked. “I’m so tired. I’ve been lugging this furniture around for hours.”
“Actually,” my mother looked at her watch. “It was less than forty five minutes. And the delivery men brought everything up here for you.”
“Good point,” Reba said, standing up and joining Ted in the fetching of the glasses and our food.
My mother sat down next to me at one of the big tables and we sat there for a minute, silently looking out over the creek.
“This is quite the place,” my mother smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”
I shook my head. “It never would’ve happened without you pushing me.”
“That may be true,” she nodded. “But sometimes, a person can be pushed and pushed and pushed, and never budge. You listened and prayed and, through the help of God, and some rather unorthodox methods, it came to be.”
“I just wish dad could see it,” I smiled. “What do you think he would say?”
“I think he would tell you how much he loved you. He would tell you that he’s beyond proud of you. And he would tell you that it’s perfect.” A small stream of tears gently rolled down her cheek. “Or, he would be so happy and his heart would be so full that he might not be able to say anything.”
Those were the words I was hoping to hear. I took a deep cleansing breath in, and felt the sun on my skin as a gentle breeze tousled my hair.
“I did it, dad,” I whispered. “I did it.”
Free Story
Thank you so much for reading Connie Cafe’s first mystery. If you have enjoyed this book, and you would like to know the story that Connie and Reba were about to hear from Roberta as the story ended, you can read that story for free.
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Free Chapter From Autumn & Autopsies
I’ve always thought there was something magical about Autumn.
Apples and pumpkins.
Cool weather and sweaters
.
Warm Cider donuts and fresh pressed cider.
Homemade pies and thick, hearty stews.
Trips to the orchard and Fall Festivals.
I’m Connie Cafe, and ever since I was a little girl, I would embrace the cold Autumn air and brave the elements to sit with my father as he drank piping hot black coffee on the front porch of our old farmhouse on the outskirts of Coffee Creek.
We’d talked about all sorts of things before he passed away when I was in college. There are a lot of conversations I don’t remember, but his love of coffee is impossible to forget.
After he died, I left college and came back home to live with my mother, Roberta Cafe. She has always pushed me to do amazing things with my life. Most recently, she encouraged me to open Connie’s Cafe on Main Street in Coffee Creek. She and my best friend Reba were also instrumental (perhaps, a little too instrumental) in getting Officer Ted Billings and me together. I was fuming at first, but after a month, I can say, life could have been much worse.
Things have been interesting since last May. I was a suspect in the murder of David Gardner, the best golfer in Coffee Creek, and most recently, my real estate agent, James Popper was murdered on the deck of the building I’d purchased from him to start my cafe. Things were a little stressful to say the least, and I had to lean on God, a lot.
I was hopeful that as we geared up for Fall, things would slow down in the murder department so I could put my focus where it really belonged — getting Connie’s Cafe off the ground.
Even though summer was over, and I missed a very busy season in our touristy little town, I was hopeful that turning the corner into Autumn would be a good experience. With all of the festivals and activities that were planned, I figured enough people would be out and about that we could drum up some good business heading into the winter.
My hope was that we could use the Fall season to gain experience and a little bit of money for when we really geared up in the mid to late spring for the summer tourist season the following year.
These thoughts were running through my head as I entered the kitchen in our old farmhouse. My mother was looking chic as ever in a bright yellow pant suit, her red flaming hair styled to perfection.
She flashed me a grin as I walked in and held up my massive coffee mug. “I’ve got you covered, just waiting on the gurgle now.”
The gurgle was what she referred to as the sound the coffee maker makes just before it’s all done making the coffee. I don’t know where she picked it up. But to her credit, when I hear that sound now, it definitely does sound like a gurgle.
“Thanks,” I said. “You know me too well.”
“I should. I raised you for heaven’s sake.”
I nodded. “That you did.”
The gurgle happened and my mother got her daily look of excitement as she turned and took the pot from the burner. She poured us each a tall, hot cup of steaming black coffee. Black as black could be.
“Thank you,” I nodded, as I brought the mug to my nose and did the required ceremonial sniffing of the morning brew. “Perfection!”
“Agreed!” My mother took her first sip of the day and shook her head. “I don’t think there’s anything better in this world than that first sip of coffee in the morning.”
“It’s pretty tough to top,” I agreed.
We moved to the table and sat down.
“So, what do you have going on today?” My mother asked.
“Reba and I are going to meet up at the shop and finish getting everything set up. We have some equipment that we need to finish moving around and a few supply orders are due for delivery today, too. I want to be ready for this weekend and take advantage of the festival.” Being the third week in September, the town of Coffee Creek was having its annual Apple Festival. Aside from the summer months, this was by far the biggest money ticket for the town. It brought tourists in from hundreds of miles away to get the last perfect glimpse of Coffee Creek before winter came in and pretty much shut the town down. “It should bring quite a bit of extra foot traffic through town. I can’t think of a better time to open the doors and give it a go.”
“Do you need any help?”
I shrugged. “I’ll let you know when the festival’s over, I suppose. Honestly, I have no idea what to expect. I think we’ve got enough to get us through, and Reba’s made coffee during the morning rush at the place we do not name. I don’t think too much is going to frazzle either of us at this point.”
“Well, let me know if I can be of service.”
“Will do,” I said, taking another large sip off my mug. “Thanks for everything, mom.”
“Oh, it’s nothing at all dear.” She put her hand on mine. “I’m sure this weekend will go swimmingly for you and Reba as you set off on yet another new adventure.”
As I parked my car and stepped out onto the sidewalk outside Connie’s Cafe an excitement washed over me. I’d dreamt about this for so many years, and it was finally here.
The custom sign that I’d ordered, had been put up yesterday. While I’d seen the guys hang it, I hadn’t gotten a good glimpse of it from the vantage of someone driving up to the cafe.
It did not disappoint. It was bright yellow with a fantastic pink scroll with the name Connie’s Cafe positioned in the center —large and clear. In each corner of the sign was a single roasted coffee bean.
Simple.
That’s the beauty in most things in this world. The simplest things have always been the ones that bring me the most joy. Trust in God, loving family and friends, wonders of nature, a good book, and a cup of coffee. It doesn’t get much better than that.
I headed up the steps and into the shop, turning the key before disabling the alarm. There was a sign in the doorway window with our hours of operation. It was a much better sign than what had been there a month earlier, when Mable Wilson had paid a teenager named Piper to write awful messages about me being a murderer and posted them all over town.
That seemed like forever ago, a nightmare from the distant past, as I readied myself to open the doors in preparation for our first day of business.
I stood in the doorway and took a look around the inside dining area. Sturdy wooden tables and padded high back chairs were arranged in a simple way. Five in all, each seating up to four people. I could have fit seven tables in the space, but it was important for me to have people feel comfortable while they were there. I didn’t want my customers feeling like they had to sit on someone’s lap to drink a cup of coffee and enjoy a conversation with a friend.
The display counter had been completely cleaned out from top to bottom. Reba, as I would have expected, made it very clear that she hated every minute of that. But to her credit, she helped me with it for the better part of four hours the day before.
It looked just marvelous, ready for the beautiful array of pastries and baked goods that I’d be making to serve up with our coffee, which would be second to none. I’d made sure of that, sourcing our beans from only the best local roasters around, until I could figure things out enough to start roasting them myself in the back of house.
The counter was clean and organized, with three coffee makers and two blenders. The sink was set up to rinse blenders and coffee pots quickly. We had a wide array of pump syrups and stacks of cups, all ready to go.
It was exactly as I wanted it.
Reba came up the steps to the shop and stood in the doorway. She looked like death warmed over. Her purple hair was draped in front of her face, and she was hunched over and panting, like walking up the stairs had completely taken it out of her.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She held a finger up, the universal sign that I needed to give her a minute to catch her breath before she could answer.
“I’ll be fine, boss,” she uttered through the strands of hair that were sticking to her mouth. “I’m here to work.”
“Oh, no,” I said. I walked around the counter and put my arm around her, guiding her to the closest chai
r. I sat down opposite her. “You need to go home and rest. I can take care of this.”
“No, no, no,” she shook her head. Droplets of water dripped all over the table top closest to us. I’d have to wipe those up so the table didn’t end up with water stains, I thought to myself.
“I told you I was gonna help,” she said. Her voice sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “I can’t let you down or you’re going to send me back to that awful place.”
“That’s not true,” I smiled. “I would never send you back to that awful place. But I am going to send you home.” I stood up and took her by the hand, leading her back toward the door. “You take the day and rest and I’ll get things situated around here.”
Reba stopped on the third step down and looked back up at me. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” I nodded. “I’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” she said, and then she got into her car to drive home.
I smiled and waved as she pulled out from the her spot. As soon as she was out of view, I went back inside, closed the door and screamed at the top of my lungs.
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God Bless,
Maisy Marple
About the Author
Maisy Marple is a lover of small town cozy mysteries, plus she has a wicked coffee habit to boot. She loves nothing more than diving into a clean mystery with a cup of the darkest, blackest coffee around.
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She grew up in a small town and now lives in the country, giving her more than enough inspiration for creating the cozy locales and memorable characters that are on display in her Connie Cafe Mystery Series!