Sweet Obsession

by J A Whiting

  Sweet Obsession

  A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 16

  J. A. Whiting

  Copyright 2019 J.A. Whiting

  Cover copyright 2019 Susan Coils at:

  www.coverkicks.com

  Formatting by Signifer Book Design

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from J. A. Whiting.

  To hear about new books and book sales, please sign up for my mailing list at:

  www.jawhiting.com

  Created with Vellum

  For my family with love

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Thank you for reading! Recipes below!

  Also by J. A. Whiting

  About the Author

  Some Recipes From The Sweet Cove Series

  Fruit and Custard Pie

  Apple Cake

  Penuche Fudge

  Sweet and Salty Cookies

  1

  Angie Roseland worked the counter in her newly-opened, bake shop-café located in the Sweet Cove Museum at the southern end of the pretty, Massachusetts seacoast town. The museum, only a few blocks from the shops and restaurants of Coveside, was one of the finest of its size housing collections of American art, photography, maritime art, Native American art, and Asian art, as well as an expansive collection of textiles.

  A welcoming foyer led into the airy atrium with a soaring glass roof allowing plenty of light into the space in the middle of the museum where four brick buildings radiated out from the center leading visitors into the galleries and studios.

  This was Angie’s second café and it was set up in a corner of the atrium where it had proven very popular with the visitors who were happy to sit at the tables to enjoy delicious bakery items, coffees and teas, breads, soups, salads, and sandwiches throughout the day.

  Rectangular planters filled with summer flowers and greenery were placed in a way that divided the café from the rest of the space and gave people a place to relax before or after their visits to the galleries. Open for only a month, the food and beverages had been a huge hit with the patrons, and the Trustees were more than pleased with the successful addition of Angie’s café, The Sweet Dreams Bake Shop II.

  To get the shop up and running, Angie had the help of her three sisters, the family friend, Victor Finch, her shop manager, Louisa, and several new employees including another family friend, Orla O’Brien who had been hired to work at the café in the family’s Victorian mansion in the center of Sweet Cove.

  With all the work of organizing and setting up the new shop and running her bakery-café in the town center, Angie had another reason that contributed to her feelings of exhaustion and fatigue … she’d just completed her third month of pregnancy. Not only had she felt tired all the time, but she’d suffered from morning sickness that had lasted all day long.

  Angie’s fraternal twin sister, Jenna, was also expecting a baby and their due dates were only days apart in February. Because Jenna, too, had morning sickness and fatigue, the sisters worked hard to encourage and support each other through the difficult three months. Although Angie and Jenna were twins, many people didn’t believe it at first since Jenna was taller with brunette hair and Angie was shorter and had honey-blond hair.

  One day, an older customer came up to the counter and told them that if they thought feeling sick and dragging themselves through the day was bad, then just wait until those kids are born. “Once those kids come into the world, you’ll never have another day of peace.”

  Angie and Jenna had exchanged looks with one another and when the customer moved away from the counter to find a table, the twins couldn’t suppress a fit of giggles.

  “Why on earth would she say that to us?” Jenna asked. “We can’t exactly go back in time and change our decision to have babies.”

  “I guess she’s warning us that the future is bleak,” Angie smiled. “We’d better enjoy ourselves during the next six months because after that it’s all over.”

  Now that their first trimesters were done, both sisters were feeling much better and had a lot more energy. Things at the new bake shop were falling into place and the job of running two cafés was becoming routine for Angie.

  Louisa, the hard-working manager, was in her late twenties, had the body of a dancer, beautiful eyes, and long, black hair with the ends dyed blue. “Did you hear about that explosion in Solana Village? There was a package left on the victim’s front porch and when she went to pick it up, it exploded.”

  “I did hear.” Angie was making a protein smoothie for a customer. “The woman will be okay, right? She was hurt, but her injuries aren’t life-threatening, are they?”

  “Thankfully, she’s supposed to recover.” Louisa cut a slice from a coconut custard pie for one of the patrons. “What kind of a nut would do that to someone?”

  “Do you think the injured woman knows the person who left the device on the porch?” Angie asked.

  “The police don’t know yet. It’s being investigated.” Louisa carried a piece of pie and a cup of coffee to a man at one of the tables.

  With the back of her hand, Angie pushed a strand of her dark blond hair from her eyes and noticed someone striding across the floor of the atrium towards her. A smile moved over her mouth as Sweet Cove Chief of Police Phillip Martin approached the counter.

  Tall and stocky with a bit of gray showing at the temples, Chief Martin was in his mid-fifties, was a life-long resident of the town, and had known the Roseland sisters’ grandmother for years. The four Roselands had inherited something special from their nana … each one had a certain skill … a skill that would fall under the category of paranormal ability.

  A very distant relative of the Roselands had left her Sweet Cove Victorian mansion to Angie and when the family moved from Boston to the seaside town, it was then that their abilities began to emerge. Three of the sisters were more accepting of their unusual skills than the fourth sibling was, but they were all learning to manage what they were able to do.

  Chief Martin often called on the Roselands to assist with difficult cases, something their grandmother had done for the police many years ago.

  “Hi,” Angie greeted the chief and handed him a mug of black coffee. “What brings you to the museum?”

  “Well, you do, actually.” Chief Martin took a long swallow from the cup.

  A bit of a shiver ran down Angie’s back and her eyes narrowed as she watched the man’s face. “Did you come in to see how I was doing?” she asked, knowing very well that the chief had a different reason for his visit.

  Chief Martin smiled. “How are you doing? Everything going well?”

  “Everything’s great. I don’t know why I was so worried about opening a second bake shop. It’s all running very smoothly.�
��

  “Glad to hear it.” The chief eyed Angie’s abdomen for a second. The baby wasn’t showing yet. “And the little one? How’s she doing?”

  “Gigi’s fine. I don’t feel her moving or fluttering yet.” Angie’s blue eyes sparkled. “The doctor said it’s too soon.”

  Almost a year ago, the Roseland sisters were involved in helping Chief Martin with a serious case which Jenna sensed might cause harm or death to Angie, and incredibly, the spirit of Angie’s future daughter was able to provide warnings that helped keep her mother safe. The little girl’s name would be Genevieve, and Angie and her husband, Josh, would call her Gigi.

  “You’re still feeling better?” The chief was aware of Angie’s and Jenna’s bouts of morning sickness.

  “Yes. That’s all behind me now. Jenna’s over it, too.” Angie nodded and chuckled. “And not a moment too soon for either of us.”

  “Good.” The chief seemed a little uneasy.

  Angie kept her voice low. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Chief Martin replied with a little too much gusto.

  “Spill it,” Angie told the man. “I’ve known you for quite a while. I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

  The chief sighed. “Can you sit down for a minute? Do you have some time?”

  Angie went over to speak with Louisa for a moment, and then she walked out from behind the counter and led the chief to an empty table away from the other patrons.

  Chief Martin set his mug on the tabletop. “Have you heard about the trouble down in Solana?”

  “The explosive device? It was on someone’s porch?”

  The chief gave a quick nod. “Yes, that incident. There’s been another one as well. It was found this morning … a package in a mailbox.”

  “Was anyone hurt by it?” Angie’s eyes clouded.

  “No. The person became suspicious of the package when he spotted it so he called the police to come and check it out. It was set to explode when someone opened it.” The chief’s brow furrowed from concern.

  Angie’s heart dropped when she recognized the look on his face. She knew the family was about to be drawn into the investigation. “Is there something we can do to help?”

  “I was hoping so. The chief in Solana Village, Benny Peterson, and I are friends. He’s asked me to consult on the case. He’s concerned this is going to get bigger, that trouble is going to spread its wings over his town. Their police force is smaller than ours. He’s very worried.”

  “Why does he think the problem is going to get bigger?” Angie asked.

  “Two bombs in one day,” Chief Martin explained. “He doesn’t think that will be the end of it.”

  “He thinks more people will receive bombs?” Angie leaned forward a little.

  The chief nodded. “Nothing like this has happened in Sweet Cove. Yet. My friend, Benny, thinks we need to be proactive on this. He’s worried the bomber will spread the trouble to a number of other towns.”

  “Why does he think that?”

  “Benny lived in New York earlier in his career. It was a small city. Something similar happened there and the guy responsible for the explosives didn’t keep his criminal activities isolated to one town.”

  “Was the perpetrator caught back then?” Angie’s heart began to pound.

  “No.”

  A chill ran over Angie’s skin. “Does your friend think the same person could be responsible for the past explosives in New York and the ones happening now in Solana?”

  “Unlikely.” Chief Martin raised his mug to his lips. “But not impossible, I suppose. Right now, the main goal is finding the person who left explosives in Solana and keeping people safe.”

  “Are there any clues?”

  “Not a whole lot.” The chief shook his head. “Any chance some of you might be able to help us out?”

  Angie tilted her head to the side and made eye contact with the man. “Have we ever refused you?”

  “There’s always a first time.”

  “No, there isn’t.” Shaking her head, Angie added kindly, “At least not with us there isn’t. If you need us, we’ll be right there by your side. Just like always.”

  2

  It was early evening when Chief Martin came by the Victorian to talk with the family about the new case. When they heard the chief would be coming to visit, Euclid, the huge, orange, Maine Coon cat and Circe, the sweet black cat with a dot of white on her chest, sat in the foyer on the bottom step of the staircase waiting for the doorbell to ring.

  The foyer of the Victorian had gleaming hardwood floors and high ceilings with a shimmering crystal chandelier hung over the center of the space. A large ornate wooden staircase led from the foyer to the second floor landing and there was a carved rectangular, cherrywood table that stood in the middle of the foyer with a large cut glass vase filled with flowers. Rugs of muted cream, cranberry, and green colors were placed here and there over the floor. The mansion was perfectly decorated with period furniture, wallpaper, lamps, antiques, and mirrors and entering the home was like stepping back into an era of elegance and fine taste.

  Ellie, the middle sister born in-between the twins and the youngest Roseland, had long blond hair, was tall and slim, efficient, smart, and well-mannered. She ran a popular bed and breakfast inn out of the mansion that received rave reviews from the guests. She was also the sister who wished the family’s special skills would disappear and never return.

  When the bell rang, Ellie was in the dining room putting out the evening snacks and drinks for the guests and she hurried to open the door for the chief.

  “Evening, Ellie.” The chief stepped inside and Euclid and Circe padded over to the man for some petting just as the other family members came to greet him.

  “We have tea and coffee set up in the sunroom,” Jenna announced.

  Leaning on his cane, Mr. Finch carried a small tray with a fruit and custard pie on it made by Angie. “We can’t have a meeting without something to eat.”

  “Courtney will be home in a little while,” Angie informed the chief. “She’s at the candy shop.” Courtney and Mr. Finch were co-owners of the Sweet Cove Candy Shop in the center of town.

  As Angie, Finch, Jenna, and Chief Martin headed for the sunroom with the two cats running ahead, Ellie held back. “I need to get some things done in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll join you later.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit in on the meeting from the beginning instead of coming in at the tail end?” Angie thought it would be more helpful if Ellie heard what the chief had to say from the start.

  “I guess I could.” Ellie fiddled with the end of a long strand of her hair. “If you think that would be better.”

  Angie nodded and gave her reluctant sister an encouraging smile.

  When they had poured cups of tea and coffee and Finch had sliced the tart and passed the small plates around to everyone, they all took seats and the chief cleared his throat and began his tale of the Solana Village case.

  “As you all know, Solana has had a couple of incidents recently where an explosive device was left on a porch and another one inside a mailbox. The first bomb exploded when it was picked up by the woman living in the house. The second bomb was diffused after the owner discovered the suspicious package in his mailbox.”

  “Has anything like this happened in Solana previously?” Finch asked as he pushed his black frame glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

  “Not to my knowledge,” Chief Martin said.

  “Is there some connection between the people who live in the two targeted homes?” Angie questioned. Euclid sat on the floor next to Angie’s chair watching her eat the tart.

  “There doesn’t seem to be.”

  “Any fingerprints?” Jenna had her long brown hair held back in a braid that rested over one shoulder.

  “None.”

  “Are there any security cameras located at those houses?” Finch asked. “Some homeowners have installed
cameras at the front and back of their properties.”

  Circe snuggled next to Mr. Finch on the sofa resting her head against his leg.

  “Unfortunately, these homeowners didn’t have any cameras at their homes.” Chief Martin finished his piece of pie and Finch cut him a second slice. “The neighbors didn’t notice anything or anyone suspicious nearby. No one has reported seeing a delivery truck or a passenger car parked close to the houses.”

  “Could someone have approached the homes from the rear?” Ellie’s question caused her sisters to look at her with surprise. Often during a briefing with the chief, Ellie would sit quietly or make an excuse to leave the room and not return. “Is there tree cover behind the houses that would provide a criminal ease of access? Could the bomb maker arrive at the homes unseen if he came in from the back?”

  “It’s a possibility. I haven’t yet made a visit to the crime scenes,” the chief told them. “I’m going to Solana tomorrow, if any of you could come along.”

  “I’ll go,” Angie said.

  “I’d be happy to accompany you,” Finch agreed.

  Just then the youngest Roseland sister entered the sunroom still wearing her work apron. “What’s cookin?”

  Courtney was the same height as Angie, had the same color hair, and similar bright blue eyes. She was the family member who most loved their paranormal skills and helping the police investigate crimes. “Why didn’t anyone tell me there was a meeting? What have I missed?”