Mulled Cider & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 8 Read online

  Mulled Cider & Murder

  An Oceanside Cozy Mystery: Book 8

  Susan Gillard

  Contents

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  Mulled Cider & Murder

  1. Mulled Cider Musings

  2. Donuts at the Police Station

  3. Hidden in the Pages

  4. Oldest House

  5. A Cupcake Crime Scene

  6. Kitchen Clues

  7. Watching an Interrogation

  8. Walking and Wondering

  9. Romance and Recipes

  10. A Broken Bone to Pick

  11. Movies and Motives

  12. The First Customer

  13. Another Customer, Another Alibi

  14. Catch Up with the Detectives

  15. A Smooth Customer

  16. Recipe Realization

  17. Jewels to Kill For

  18. Congratulatory Donuts

  Also by Susan Gillard

  About the Author

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  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2017 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Mulled Cider & Murder

  Mulled Cider Musings

  “You seem lost in thought,” Heather commented.

  “She’s mulling over the new flavor,” Amy joked. “Get it?”

  Heather groaned. Her new flavor of the week at Donut Delights was a Mulled Cider Donut, and her bestie had been heavier on the puns than they were on the Allspice.

  “I’m sorry,” Bernadette said, responding to Heather. “I suppose I have been a bit distracted. Call me a Jacques Paganel.”

  “I would if I had any idea what that meant,” Amy said.

  “Sorry. It’s a Jules Verne reference. He’s an absent-minded character,” said Bernadette. “But tell me all about these donuts.”

  Heather smiled at her neighbor. The bookseller often made obscure literary references, but she was one of their first friends in Key West, and they were always glad when she came in for snacks and conversation. Heather’s assistants were taking care of the rest of the customers in the shop, so Heather and Amy were able to sit down at a table with their friend.

  “These are Mulled Cider Donuts,” Heather said.

  “They are so good, they make me sigh-der,” said Amy.

  Bernadette chuckled. “They do sound perfect for November.”

  "The donut cake base is apple flavored with some of the classic spices added to it. It has hints of cardamom, coriander, and clove. And then it is covered in sugary spices as well, most prominently cinnamon,” Heather explained. “They taste even better when they’re still warm, so why don’t you have a bite now?”

  “Then you can de-cider if you like them,” Amy added.

  Bernadette happily obliged. “It’s delicious,” she assured them. “And just what I needed today.”

  “Is something bothering you?” Heather asked. “We’d be happy to help if there’s anything we can do. You’ve been so helpful to us with your advice about the area.”

  “Thanks,” Bernadette said. “But I’m not sure how helpful I’ve really been. It seems that my advice usually leads to you getting involved in a murder investigation.”

  “I don’t think that’s on you,” said Heather. “We get ourselves into our own sticky situations.”

  “With or without icing,” Amy added.

  "And as private investigators getting involved in cases is literally our job," Heather smiled. "So, tell us, is everything all right?"

  “There’s something puzzling happening in my shop,” said Bernadette. “But not sinister at all. It’s sweet really. But strange.”

  “We love puzzles,” Heather assured here.

  “And actually hearing what’s going on,” Amy prompted.

  "Someone has been leaving love poems in books at my store," said Bernadette.

  “You have a secret admirer?” Heather asked.

  “Somebody has a secret admirer,” Bernadette said. “I don’t think they’re admiring me. Not that I’m not charming, but based on the descriptions I don’t think it’s about me.”

  “Do you have any idea who is writing them?” Heather asked.

  "Based on the handwriting, I think it's a man, but it could be any one of my customers," Bernadette said. "But I have no idea which one. And I don't know who he is referring to. And I don't know why he's leaving them in my shop."

  “That is a puzzle,” Heather said, thinking about potential scenarios. Her sleuthing senses were already engaged. Were the poems for somebody that worked in the shop or somebody that visited it? What did the writer hope to accomplish with these verses?

  “It’s not a big deal,” Bernadette reassured them. “I've just been curious, and it's been on my mind.”

  Before they could discuss the matter anymore, Heather became distracted by the arrival of her two favorite customers and close friends, Eva and Leila. The two senior ladies had moved to Key West from Texas with her. They were great at giving advice and at complimenting her donuts that they so loved.

  Heather waved at them, and they happily joined the trio instead of sitting down at their usual table.

  “What have you two been up to?” Heather asked.

  “We’ve been sticking our toes in the water at the beach,” Eva said. “But then they started to get pruney.”

  “Not that they weren’t pruney before,” Leila joked.

  “And we decided to come in and have a donut break,” said Eva.

  Heather headed to the counter to get some more donuts for her friends. She placed the plate in the center of the table and four hands each quickly snatched one.

  Leila joked before she ate hers. “I do love these Mulled Cider Donuts, but is it all right to have one so early in the day? It’s not even five o’clock.”

  “Don’t worry,” Heather responded. “These donuts are non-alcoholic mulled cider.”

  "Good thing," Amy said with a mouth full of the snack. "I eat so many donuts that if they were spiked, I'd have trouble keeping my balance."

  They all enjoyed their snacks, and then Bernadette said her goodbyes. She needed to return to Bernadette's Beachy Books.

  “Good luck with the poet,” Heather said as she left.

  “What’s that about a poet?” Leila asked.

  Heather quickly explained the situation to the women.

  “What a strange place to leave them,” Eva said. “Though I do love poetry.”

  “Me too,” said Leila. “Roses are red. Violets are blue. Sugar is sweet – so make my one donuts two.”

  They all laughed. Then Eva said, “It’s nice to know that there is romance in the air for some people.”

  “As long as it’s not for you?” Leila asked.

  “Most certainly,” said Eva. “I’m not in the market for romance anymore.”

  “You’re a heartbreaker,” Leila said.

  “We just moved here,” Eva said. “If anyone is pretending to be infatuated with me, it’s only be
cause we’re new and don’t know all his tricks yet.”

  “You’re being pretty mean to that old dog,” Leila commented.

  “Let’s change the subject,” said Eva.

  “Sure,” Heather said. “How was the beach? It must have been nice to keep you out so long. You weren’t here as early as usual.”

  "We weren't in a hurry," Eva admitted. "And we weren't expecting to see you."

  Heather said, “It’s true we really haven’t had a lot of time to hang out together, with our cases and baking and your active social lives.”

  “Which reminds me,” Leila said. “We’ll have to leave soon if we want to meet Betty and see that movie.”

  Heather smiled at how what she said proved her point. However, she was happy that her friends and family had made it a point to have a weekly outing. They decided that no matter how busy they became, they would always gather on Saturday afternoons and do something fun in Key West together. This week they were planning on visiting the Oldest House.

  Heather commented on how the Saturday outing tomorrow would be fun, and Eva responded, “It will be. And we certainly are happy that we got to see you today.”

  “Why didn’t you expect to see us at Donut Delights today?” Amy asked, picking up another donut.

  “Oh,” Leila said. “We expected you to be at the crime scene.”

  “What crime scene?” Heather asked.

  “We heard about something on the news,” Eva said. “And we thought that the police were there, so we thought Ryan would have called you over to help.”

  Heather frowned. Normally her detective husband would have called her and Amy to help with his investigations. Why hadn’t he done so this time?

  “I think it’s time we packed up some donuts,” Heather said.

  “What’s your plan?” asked Amy.

  “I’m just going to visit my husband at work,” Heather said innocently.

  Donuts at the Police Station

  “We’ll want to figure out if the victim had a boyfriend,” Ryan said, as he pored over a file.

  “Right,” Detective Peters said, writing down everything his partner said in a notebook.

  “Good morning,” Heather said, cheerfully as she entered the police station with her box of donuts.

  If she had any doubt about her suspicions that the detectives were up to something, it was now confirmed. Ryan hurriedly closed his folder and Peters hid his notebook behind this back. Amy rolled her eyes at the pair of them.

  “Honey,” Ryan said. “What brings you in?”

  “I thought you might be hungry,” she responded. “We brought you some Mulled Cider Donuts.”

  “Thanks,” Detective Peters said, no longer hiding his notebook. He took an offered donut and joy radiated across his face. He was a young detective who was eager to solve crime but was often unsure that he was taking the best course of action. One thing he was sure of was his love for Heather's donuts.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Ryan said.

  “How has your day been?” asked Heather.

  “Fine,” he said. He wasn’t used to keeping secrets from his wife, and Heather felt pleased that he looked uncomfortable about it. He was twirling a pencil around in his fingers.

  “Working on a new case?” Heather asked.

  “Well, yes, actually we are,” said Ryan.

  “Another bicycle theft?” Amy asked.

  “No,” Ryan said. “It’s not another theft. It’s actually a murder case.”

  “One that you don’t need our help on?” Heather asked.

  Ryan sighed. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Heather nodded and left Amy with Detective Peters, though her bestie warned her that there might not be any donuts left when she returned.

  "How did you find out about the case?" he asked after they had moved to a quieter location.

  “I am an investigator,” Heather said. She wasn’t really angry with him, but she didn’t like being left out of the loop.

  “I know you are,” Ryan said. “You’re a wonderful investigator, and you’ve helped on countless cases.”

  “But not this one?” Heather asked. “Why?”

  “It’s not because of you,” Ryan said. “It's that this is my first case on this police force. I wanted to solve it to prove myself. I also thought it was good for my partner and me to tackle this on our own so we can figure out how to work together. And, the biggest reason, is that I want the chief to know that I can handle things on my own. I didn't tell you about the new case because I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Can you understand?"

  "I can, and I do," Heather said. "I know you're a great detective and can solve any case on your own. It's just that Amy and I can usually expedite things.”

  “And I appreciate,” Ryan said. “But I’d really like to tackle this case on my own.”

  Heather nodded, feeling disappointed.

  “It’s like how sometimes you might like some space in your donut kitchen,” Ryan said. “Usually you appreciate the help, but every once in a while you worry about too many cooks.”

  "If we are in the way, Amy and I should just leave," Heather said.

  “Wait,” Ryan said. “You know that I love you and that I think you’re one of the most brilliant people in the world, right?”

  “I know. I picked up on the clues.” Heather joked, “I did tell you I was an investigator.”

  “So, you do understand?” he asked. “I don’t want the chief to think that I can’t do this on my own.”

  She nodded. They went and joined the others.

  “Were you two discussing the case?” Amy asked. “Peters was telling me that the victim was stabbed.”

  “Peters,” Ryan grumbled.

  “What?” Peters asked, holding his donut. “They’ve helped with cases before. I thought it was all right.”

  "They've been great help in the past, but that was also before I was officially the new detective here. I thought this case would be an opportunity for us to bond as partners," Ryan said.

  “I do want to bond as partners,” Peters assured him. “I didn’t mean to ruin that. I won’t share any more information, partner.”

  “You’re not sharing information anymore?” Amy asked.

  “It’s not that we won’t work on things together in the future,” said Ryan. “It’s just that this first official case of mine is something that only Peters and I will investigate.”

  “Are we okay with this?” Amy asked, clearly not okay with it.

  "We are," Heather said. "It's Ryan's first official case here, and we need to let him investigate it as he sees fit."

  “Fine,” Amy said, but she took the box of donuts away from them.

  “Well, we’ll let you get back to work,” Heather said.

  “Good luck with the case,” Amy said.

  The two friends left the station feeling somewhat deflated.

  “We’re really not going to help with this case?” Amy asked.

  “We have our own things to focus on,” Heather said. “We can focus on family and donuts. And Ryan can work on the case in his own way.”

  “And when he realizes he needs us, we’ll be here?” Amy suggested.

  “Until then, we have our own case to solve too,” said Heather.

  “And what’s that?”

  “Who’s the poet in bookstore?” said Heather.

  "It doesn't seem quite as exciting as murder," Amy said, folding her arms.

  Hidden in the Pages

  “Here’s one of the poems,” Bernadette said. “It was in a copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

  Heather accepted the piece of paper. She enjoyed visiting Bernadette’s Beachy Books. It was a small shop that was crowded with collections of books. It featured both brand new paperback books and the classics.

  “Pride and Prejudice?” Amy asked. “I know we’re not trying to get into the mind of killer like we have experience in. But I’m pretty sure I can get into the mind of the poet based on when
he decided to leave his bookmark. Unrequited love. But hoping for a happy ending.”

  Heather let her friend read to poem too. It looked like it was written with a shaky hand, but the letters were still clear.

  It read: Violets bloom where they had died long before. I’d give you the key to my heart if you but open the door.

  “Are there anymore?” Heather asked.

  “I found three so far,” said Bernadette.

  “And were they all found in classics?” asked Heather.

  “No,” said Bernadette. “One was in a new book in my romance display. That’s actually the first one I found. A customer thought it was a strange receipt and returned it. And another was in a guidebook about the island.”

  “He’s giving everybody a chance to come across his poems,” Amy muttered.

  “Maybe,” Heather said thoughtfully. “And you didn’t notice anyone that was near all those books with an opportunity to sneak them in?”

  “Most of my customers browse through my selection until they find what they want,” Bernadette explained.

  "They need to do a lot of browsing, so they don't judge the books by their covers," Amy joked.

  “And it could be one of my regulars who is in here all the time,” Bernadette said. “I’m not sure if the poems were all left the same day. Or if they were put in over time and I didn’t notice them right away.”

  “Is it possible that there are more poems in here?” asked Heather.

  “It’s possible,” admitted Bernadette. “But my assistant Gina has been intrigued by this secret admirer. She’s seen pawing through our books looking for more whenever she has a free moment.”